


Finding Shaun

by EOsman



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Framing Story, railroad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 08:55:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EOsman/pseuds/EOsman
Summary: Maybe I've lost my whole life, the world I was living in, and my family... Maybe I've lost my sanity, my safety and my happiness...But I still have something. I've still got Shaun. And for him, I will do absolutely anything that is necessary. All that matters now is finding him.---This is basically a book version of the Fallout 4 story line, the way that I played it. Romance, adventure, action, angst - you name it, you'll find it right here on Nate Howard's journey to finding his heart again. Main pairing: M!SS x Piper





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously, I don't hold claim to anything much you see here. Most of the dialogue in this fanfiction is from the actual Fallout 4 game, with a few lines I've added myself. Wrote this because I felt there needed to be more than just short fanfics - the whole story needs detail, focus, characterization. And the best way to do that is to write it down. So please, enjoy.

**War. War never changes.**  
**In the year 1945 my great-grandfather, serving in the army, wondered when he’d get to go home to his wife and the son he’d never seen. He got his wish when the US ended World War II by dropping atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. The world awaited Armageddon. Instead… something miraculous happened.**  
**We began to use atomic energy not as a weapon, but as a nearly limitless source of power. People enjoyed luxuries once thought the realm of science fiction: domestic robots, fusion-powered cars, portable computers.**  
**But then, in the twenty-first century, people awoke from the American dream. Years of consumption led to shortages of every major resource. The entire world unraveled. Peace became a distant memory.**  
**It is now the year 2077. We stand on the brink of total war.**  
**And I am afraid.**  
**For myself, for my wife, for my infant son. Because if my time in the army taught me one thing… it’s that war – war never changes.**

…

“War never changes,” I repeat, testing the words in my mouth as I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes look a little sunken; I’m tired from the past few sleepless nights. Need a shave. Maybe a haircut, too.  
“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead at the veteran’s hall tonight, hon,” Nora says brightly, walking into the bathroom behind me and peering at my reflection over my shoulder. She looks much better this morning than I do, with her clean shoulder-length hair, pretty dark eyes and rosy skin. Her presence improves my mood significantly – it always has.  
Nora and I go way back. We were friends in school, we graduated together, but then we parted ways for a while. She went to college to study law, while I ventured into the army. I saw things there that changed me entirely. All the friends I’d used to have didn’t seem to recognize me anymore, and I couldn’t seem to recognize them. How could they understand the terror of battle; the parent-less children and childless parents? How could they understand that it’s never really over, that the war could soon be right on their doorstep if not for people like me? War never changes, I told them. But they never really got it.  
So I drifted away from everyone, everyone except Nora.  
We ran into each other again at a reunion eight years after we’d graduated, she still planning to become a lawyer and I already a crew-cut soldier. The relief of talking to someone who really knew me was incredible. She was still the same bubbly, dark-haired beauty I remembered from school, and there was still this calm aura about her that told of confidence and maturity – a deep understanding of all walks of life. She was Nora. And she became my greatest love.  
We spent the next few years in a bubble of happiness, often punctuated by the melancholy of me leaving to go off to war again and again, each time returning unharmed. And then… she was pregnant. We would be having a child. Hopefully with her looks and her smarts and maybe my talent for getting into trouble. I married her immediately, knowing that my dreams had come true, and I unlisted from the army, knowing that whatever happened I would be there for my beautiful wife and my first child. I would not be estranged to him, absent and mysterious. I would be a true father.  
And I have been. But that doesn’t stop me from being scared. War is coming, whether we like it or not. Tensions are running high: we see tanks rolling down the street, vertibirds humming over the cities; soldiers stationed at every outpost. And if a war does come, I know that there’s very little I’ll be able to do to protect my family. Because they will take me and make me fight. I will have no choice. And I will die. I will never see my son age, become a young man like me, fall in love like I did, start a family like I did. And I will never again see my wife. These are the reasons I haven’t been sleeping lately. Not because of the war I fought in, but because of the one I know is coming. Nora and I have sat up hours into the night talking, whispering in the darkness. If I die, I know Nora will carry on and do her best to take care of Shaun, and vice versa.  
These are the sorts of conversations you have on the brink of war. Morbid, dark. I love Nora with all of my heart and I know for certain I will never love anyone else. And I also know that I will do absolutely anything for my son. I’m broken with knowing that the beauty of the moment could end. Which brings us to tonight. Tonight, I’ll be giving a speech. I’ll be finally telling America about these fears I have, warning everyone for possibly the hundredth time of what’s coming for them. Maybe they’ll listen; maybe they won’t. I just hope, for all of our sake, that they do.  
I glance at Nora in the mirror, tilting my head towards her. She’s smiling fondly at me, her slender hand curled around my bicep. “You think?” I ask.  
She laughs, retracting her hand and patting my arm fondly. “Absolutely,” she replies. “Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror.”  
“Right.” I commence my daily routine of washing my face, shaving my beard, and brushing my teeth. While drying my face, I jokingly size up my reflection and say, “Hon, do you think my nose looks too big?”  
Nora chuckles, reaching around to tweak it. “Of course not, you handsome idiot,” she says. I grin at her and move away from the mirror, kissing her cheek. “Your turn.”  
As Nora begins getting ready, I exit the bathroom, feeling fresh and ready for the day. As I enter the kitchen, Codsworth our robot butler greets me cheerfully. “Ah, good morning, sir! Your coffee. 173.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection!”  
“Thanks, Codsworth,” I reply, picking the mug up off of the counter and taking a sip. Perfect. Although Codsworth is basically family now, he’s still a robot. I remind Nora of that often, but she still insists on treating him like he’s human. He’s a well-programmed tin can, sure, but I know from my fair share of science fiction movies and my experiences in the war that such creatures can easily turn on you. I mean, we’ve all heard about the first creations of synthetic robots, the same as any other human if not for their absence of morals. My personal motto: don’t trust anything that looks human but isn’t. And don’t fully trust humans, either. Just keep your trust for the people who trust you, if that makes sense.  
I take my coffee with me into Shaun’s room, grinning as I see the little guy squirming in his cot. He slept through the morning today, didn’t even wake us up like he normally does. We came in once we’d woken up and he was just smiling at us through the bars, giggling to himself. I reach down now and tickle him, feeling his tiny little hands clutch around my fingers and squeeze. Shaun’s gonna be a strong guy when he’s older.  
Gazing out of the window, I can see it’s a beautiful day, surprisingly sunny for the 23rd of October. The trees are all the orange shades of autumn, tousled by the breeze, and I can see our neighbours’ son running around in their garden already, wearing a blanket-cape and making rocket sounds with his mouth. Maybe today we’ll take Shaun out into the garden and read him a book, or to the park so we can feed the ducks.  
I tickle Shaun one more time and then leave the room with the door open so I can hear him if he cries. Nora’s already out in the kitchen, perfectly manicured and reading a newspaper; she looks up when I come in, that familiar little smile tugging at the corners of her lips.  
“What?” I ask her, coming over.  
“Look at you. How did a woman like me ever get so lucky?”  
I slip my arms around her waist and bend down to deliver a long kiss, inhaling her sweet floral perfume. “I was about to say the same thing,” I reply softly. Nora smiles wider and then kisses me back, dropping the newspaper so that she can hold my face.  
I hear Shaun hiccup in the background and then begin to wail.  
Codsworth, suddenly alert, declares, “Ah! Sounds like someone made a stinky. I shall attend to young Shaun.” He jets out of the room, Nora and I gazing after him.  
“Hmm. You know, I was nervous at first, but Codsworth’s really good with Shaun,” Nora states.  
I shrug noncommittally. “I suppose.”  
I head over to the couch, about to sit down, but am interrupted by the ringing sound of the doorbell. God, it’s been a long time since I’ve had a moment of peace.  
“Can you get that?’ Nora requests, glancing up from her newspaper. “It’s probably that salesman. He comes for you every day.”  
Sighing impatiently, I set my coffee down on the counter and walk over to open the door, the surprising heat of the day hitting me hard in the face. I can hear vertibirds in the distance – today’s an oddly busy day for the army, and I can’t help but wonder why.  
“Good morning!” exclaims the man on our doorstep in a falsely cheerful voice. “Vault-Tec calling!” He’s wearing a tan suit with a trilby hat, his long-nosed face split into a wide smile.  
I stare at him blankly. “Vault-Tec? Remind me again.”  
“Why, we’re about you, sir, and helping secure your future! You see, Vault-Tec is the foremost bidder of state-of-the-art, underground fallout shelters – vaults, if you will. Luxury accommodations where you can wait out the horrors of nuclear devastation.” The man clears his throat. “You can’t begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you! I’ve been trying for days. It’s a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.”  
The tension is rising. Of course I’ve heard of Vault-Tec. We all have. But I was wondering why the hell there’s someone selling it to me on my doorstep.  
“What’s so important?” I ask the salesman suspiciously.  
“Why, nothing less than your entire future! If you haven’t noticed, sir, this country has gone to heck in a hand basket – if you’ll excuse my language. The big kaboom is… it’s inevitable, I’m afraid. And coming sooner than you may think, if you catch my meaning…”  
This man is repeating my own fears back to me.  
“Now, I know you’re a busy fellow, so I won’t take up much of your time… time being a, um, a precious commodity. I’m here today to tell you that because of your family’s service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local vault!” He gestures widely with his hands. “Vault one-eleven!”  
I scratch my chin, frowning. “There’s room for my entire family, right?”  
“Of course, of course! Minus your robot, naturally.”  
Naturally.  
“In fact, you’re already cleared for entrance,” the man tells me. “It’s just a matter of verifying some information. Don’t want there to be any holdups in the unforeseen event of… ahem… total atomic annihilation. Won’t take but a moment.”  
“Well, I can’t wait for the world to end,” I say sarcastically. The Vault-Tec salesman laughs loudly, too loudly, then says, “That’s the spirit! Now, let’s see…”  
He hands me his clipboard and I fill in my name and signature:  
Nathaniel Howard  
“Wonderful, that’s everything,” the salesman says as I hand the clipboard back. “Uh… just gonna walk this over to the vault. Congratulations on being prepared for the future!”  
He backs down the driveway and is gone, and I shut the door a little harder than I need to. “Thanks again!”  
I feel Nora touch my back and I turn to face her. She knows me too well.  
“Hey, it’s piece of mind,” she says, gazing up at me. “That’s worth a little paperwork, right?”  
“For you and Shaun, no price is too high,” I reply good-humouredly, kissing her cheek and then stepping past her. Nora laughs and beams at me with her all-consuming smile. “Good answer.”  
Codsworth interrupts us, jetting into the living room. “Sir, Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down-”  
“Don’t worry Codsworth, I got it,” I sigh before he can continue. I leave them both in the living room and head back into Shaun’s room – he’s screaming his head off, writhing and wriggling in his blankets. I quickly reach down and stroke his little face to reassure him, smiling at the hazel eyes that match my own and the cute nose he got from his Mom. He quietens down once he feels my touch and listens to my voice. “It’s okay,” I murmur. But inside I’m thinking about what a liar I am, to tell my son everything’s all right when it’s not.  
Nora, leaning against the doorway, says, “How are the two most important men in my life doing?”  
I turn to see her beaming fondly at both of us.  
“Spin the mobile a bit – he loves that,” she tells me.  
I spin it, and we all listen to the tinkling music; Shaun has finally stopped crying, and he watches it in awe. Nora walks over and takes my hand, and we stand there for a moment, gazing down at our infant son, united completely for just a few idyllic moments. Suddenly, she perks up and says, “Listen, after breakfast I was thinking we could head up to the park for a bit. Weather should hold up.”  
“Yeah, sounds like fun,” I say genuinely. “Was thinking exact the same thing.”  
I could do with some family time where I’m not thinking about the end of the world and total nuclear annihilation. I squeeze her hand and lean in to kiss her again, so utterly glad that I have her by my side. And then -  
“Sir! Mum! I think you should see this!” comes Codsworth’s anxious voice from the living room.  
Nora’s eyebrows drop into a frown. She knows as well as I do that something must be seriously wrong. It’s something to do with the silence outside; with Shaun’s silence in particular. With all the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, and the way my hands have suddenly started shaking like I’m cold. I did well in the army because of my instincts – the “sixth sense”, all my comrades jokingly called it – and my instincts have never been wrong.  
“Codsworth? What’s wrong?” Nora calls. There’s no answer. I shoot her a firm look, not even needing to express my fears into words. She instantly reaches into the cot and lifts out Shaun, nodding to me.  
As I leave the room and head towards the television, I can hear the sounds returning. There are sirens in the distance, and the rapid chop-chop-chop of vertibird blades overhead. And shouting and screaming. As I enter the living room, I can see Codsworth is staring at the television. And on the television is the news reporter, sweating in front of the camera, his voice shaking. He’s the most confident anchor on television, perhaps the most popular in America, and here he is: a sweating, panting mess. He’s talking about flashes and explosions, how they’ve lost contact with all the stations and outposts. Nora jogs into the room behind me, Shaun in her arms, her face pale. I glance at her to confirm her fears, and she goes even paler. “Oh no,” she whispers.  
“…We do have confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania…”  
The screen suddenly turns blank, his voice cut off; there’s no signal. My heart is beating in my chest like it wants to get out and flee. So do I. My senses go on full alert and I grab Nora, shouting, “We need to get to the vault! Now!”  
We run out through the front door, just as frantic as all our neighbors – the sirens are deafening now. Everyone is running for their lives, leaving all they’ve ever known behind. The army is blocking the entrance to Sanctuary, waving us instead through the forest to where they’ve been constructing Vault 111 for the past few years. All of a sudden I’m angry as well as scared – they knew this was going to happen! And yet they maintained their secrecy, tried to pretend nothing was wrong. Thousands, maybe even millions, will die today, and it will be their fault.  
Nora and I do as they tell us, breathing heavily, overtaking all our neighbors. There are vertibirds everywhere, and tanks, though I have no idea what they’re hoping to achieve with having them here. We sprint, overtaking more people, crossing the little bridge over the creek. At the entrance to the site of Vault 111, there’s a whole crowd of screaming, crying people. “We have to get in!” one lady wails. ‘My family, my children-”  
“I don’t want to die!” someone else yells.  
We shoulder through the crowd to the front. The very same salesman who sold a place to my family mere minutes ago is in front of us. “This is absurd! I am Vault-Tec!”  
“If your name isn’t on the list, you aren’t going in,” the officer in the gateway snaps. I can’t believe his tone – at a time like this! Surely he knows that if these people don’t go into the vault, they will die? And the Vault-Tec representative, screwed over by his own company…  
The man puffs out his chest. “I am going in – you can’t stop me!”  
One of the soldiers at the entrance begins firing up his minigun and the salesman instantly backs down, cringing away. I push him aside desperately and shout, “We need to get in – we’re on the list!”  
The officer checks his clipboard. “Infant, adult male, adult female… okay, go ahead.”  
“Thank you!” Nora says. We pass him into the grounds, following the waving soldiers. “What’s going to happen to all those people outside the gate?” she asks as we run.  
“We’re doing everything we can!” the soldier replies gruffly. “Now move!”  
“Stand on the platform, in the center!” another soldier shouts. We do as we’re told, stepping onto the blue-and-yellow platform. Everything is chaos, a frenzy of screaming and heavy breathing and air raid sirens. I stare out over Sanctuary, knowing that everything is about to change – my whole life is going down the drain. The sky is bright blue, and the trees are autumn-orange, the buildings of Concord mere shadows in the distance. I find myself viewing the world as if I’m about to leave it.  
Am I?  
I look at Nora and Shaun, anxious. Nora reaches for my hand and intertwines her fingers with mine, her eyes watering with tears she’s refusing to shed. It’s truly crazy that you can be living a life of paradise in one second and running through hell in the next.  
“Almost there,” I say reassuringly, swallowing down my fear. “We’re gonna be okay. I love you – both of you.”  
“We love you too-”  
Just as Nora completes her sentence there’s a magnificent roaring, like a great pack of lions has torn across the horizon. And then the sky seems to split – I see the orange and grey of an explosion, humongous, bigger than I’ve ever seen. My vision turns white for a second.  
“Oh my God!” Nora shrieks.  
We all crouch, panting, screaming. The cloud is growing, coming closer and closer. If we don’t move now we will die.  
Just as it hits the edge of the compound, the lift begins moving, and we’re undercover before it can simmer us into dust. We sink down into the Earth as the world above is ruined in a blast of fire and smoke and radiation. It will become a scar. And later on, when we finally return to it, we will find the ruins and try to build upon them again. But things will never be the same.  
I know this, because war – war never changes.


	2. Vault Sweet Vault

The cage doors lift, allowing us our first view into what will be our home for at least the next couple of years. Guess I’ve gotta get used to blue and yellow.   
There’s one guard and one man in a very tight-fitting blue suit waiting for us, waving us out of the lift, both wearing false smiles. “No need to worry, folks!” says the man. “We’ll get everyone situated in your new home, Vault 111! A better future underground…”  
I turn to Nora, hugging her quickly to me, consumed by my own relief at having all three of us alive and together, even if everything we’ve known is gone. My parents… no, I can’t think about them. I can’t. I pull back and look down at her, clutching her face in my hands. “I love you,” I say again to Nora, looking deep into her eyes. She still looks shaken and pale, but she’s strong; she won’t cry.   
“I love you too,” she mutters. We kiss, and then follow everyone else up the steps into Vault 111. It’s dark despite the many fluorescent lights, and everywhere we walk is metal grating and platforms. We each receive a blue Vault-Tec suit from a smiling, caramel-skinned woman. “Uh… what now?” I ask, bundling it in my hands.   
“Just follow the doctor here,” she instructs. “He’ll show you where to go.”  
“All right, you three,” the doctor says jovially, sounding just as falsely cheerful as that salesman did earlier. “Follow me.”  
We follow him down a corridor, all three of us uncertain and wary of the space. I can hear the dripping of water and the echoing of footsteps and voices in every corridor. “See?” Nora says quietly to Shaun. “This is our new home.” Shaun hasn’t cried; he’s silent, aware of his surroundings. Maybe this will be okay, after all. Maybe we’ll all be fine.   
“Oh, you’ll love it here,” the doctor says by means of conversation. “This is one of the most advanced vaults – not that the others aren’t great, mind you.”  
All the other new vault-dwellers are just as – if not more – shaken as we are. They’re talking about homes being destroyed, families being lost. A whole world gone. They watch us as we pass them, their faces drawn and pallid, hands clasped tightly together.  
We enter a room filled with two rows of pods facing each other. They each have a window and a control panel, and the doors are open to present padded seats. I feel a tug in my stomach as the doctor leads me to the end of the rows, my old wartime senses telling me that something must be wrong. What are these for?   
“Just step in here and put your vault suit on,” the doctor tells me calmly, gesturing to a pod at the end. I do as I’m told, not even worrying about the fact that I’m stripping in front of strangers. These things don’t seem to matter anymore.   
Before I step into the odd capsule, however, I turn to Nora and lean my forehead against hers. Shaun is crying again, perhaps because of the cold, perhaps from shock about all that just happened. I calm him and then gaze at Nora. “I’ll be right here,” I murmur. “Okay? And I love you two.”  
“If you keep saying that, it might start to lose its meaning,” Nora jokes. But nevertheless, she leans forward and kisses me one last time before I turn away from her, my muscles strung and tense, and step into the capsule. The door closes, hissing as it traps me inside the cold chamber. My nerves fire up, and I grit my teeth against the flood of adrenaline trembling through my veins. What’s happening? Why do we need to be in these things? Through the fogged-up window I see the same happening to Nora – she’s got Shaun in her arms still, and she’s comforting him. Again, I feel a tingle in my stomach – something is wrong. Something has to be wrong.   
“The pod will decontaminate and depressurize you before we head deeper into the vault. Just relax,” the doctor says. His explanation makes sense, but I’m still not so sure. I look across at Nora and place my hand against the cool glass, my wedding ring clinking against it. She does the same, and I see her dark eyes sparkling with tears. “Time for a whole new life,” I tell myself, my voice sounding harsh to my own ears.   
“Resident: secure. Occupant vitals: normal,” the voice comes from inside my chamber, registering my bodily processes and heartbeat. “Procedure complete. In…”  
Suddenly there seems to be cold air hissing into my pod from all directions. I flinch, but don’t fight it. It’s freezing, burning me, and I gasp at the sensation as the temperature drops below zero in a matter of seconds. I’m losing consciousness...  
“Three…two…one…”  
The glass freezes over completely, and I let my eyes close… and I drift off into the unknown.

 

I’m not aware of much. Only that I can’t feel anything in my body, like I’ve been paralyzed. And everything is so, so cold. Why am I awake? Is it over? I can feel the air compressing and decompressing in my lungs. And my fingers are very numb. Instinctively, I wiggle them, but I can’t feel a thing. I breathe in deeply, levering open my eyes, noting that my eyelashes have been frozen together. I reach forwards and wipe some of the fog off the window in front of me with a lethargic hand. Nora’s also awake – I can see her looking around, searching for a release so she can get out. I want to call to her, but my vocal cords aren’t working properly. I can’t feel my lips or tongue, either.  
“This is the one.” A woman dressed in a sort of hazmat suit has entered my field of vision. She’s pointing at Nora’s pod. I’m tired, so so tired, but I must stay awake. I bang on the window, trying to get her attention, but she doesn’t seem to hear. A man, dressed in a black leather jacket, walks around to face Nora’s pod, assessing it critically. “Open it.”  
The woman does as she’s told, pressing the button. There’s a great hiss as the door to Nora’s pod slides open and she coughs in the fresh air. I bang on my window again, disregarded completely. Shaun starts crying the instant he feels the temperate air, and the suited woman reaches forward and tries to take him from Nora’s arms. She clings on, still coughing. I want to be there with her, beside her. “No – I’ve got him!”  
“Let the boy go,” the man growls, raising an object I know all too well. I begin banging on my window frantically now, wishing I could scream as well. What’s happening? Why are they taking Shaun? Why are they pointing a gun at my wife? I make an odd groaning sound deep in my throat, already sensing what is going to happen. Frustrated tears gather in my eyes.   
“I’m only going to tell you once,” the man threatens.  
“I’m not giving you Shaun!” Nora shouts.   
There’s a great bang, and a flash – I stop slamming on my window, simply because my arms have gone limp. I think I might pass out. I mouth Nora’s name, watching as she slumps back in her seat and the woman takes my baby. Shaun. Not Shaun.  
The man lowers his hand, waving the woman off. “Better get outta here. Let’s go.”  
Before he walks out, he comes right up to my pod, peering in at me. I bang on the window, imagining smashing his face between my hands. Riveting him with bullet holes. He will die. And it will be the most painful experience of his life.   
“Least we still have the backup,” he says, smirking at me. He walks away.   
I begin to open my mouth, to yell, but cold air is already filling my chamber again. The cold rips me from the present, blurs my vision and my thoughts.   
My wife is dead; my son is gone. And I am helplessly frozen.

 

I don’t know how long it’s been. I don’t know what time it is, what day it is – hell, I don’t even know what year it is. The moment I wake up again, I am grieving. I have tears frozen against my face, shed for my beautiful, wonderful Nora. For the son they took from me. Shaun. They turn back to water as the chamber fills with warmer air, defrosting my body. I wipe them with shaking hands.  
I bang twice on the window, panting and seeing my breath create steam before me. Outside, the corridor between all the pods is empty. The mechanized voice in my chamber speaks: “Cryogenic array. Resident must vacate immediately.”  
The door hisses open and I stumble out, my muscles like rubber. I hit the floor hard, gasping for air with my frozen lungs. My hands clutch at an icy floor; I feel nothing. My knees impact the ground and sting. I scrabble to get to Nora’s pod, shuddering with unsteady breaths, and press the button on her control panel, snapping, “Come on, come on!”  
The door opens, and I duck under it. She’s still frozen, her skin hard like a pearly layer of rock, her pretty face outlined with ice. Each tendril of hair encapsulated in it. Like an ice sculpture, beautiful but cold. Distant.   
Dead.  
I expected myself to cry, to yell, to punch something. Instead, all I feel is a quiet sort of anger, a hope for revenge. Very slowly, I slip the wedding ring I gave her off her delicate finger and tuck it into my vault suit. I don’t want to touch her; I don’t think I can bear it.   
I imagine her when I knew her as a kid, skinny as hell but really cute, with a beautiful smile and a witty mind. We’d go out together, play in the street, drink together on the beach. She was my best friend. And then she became more than a friend, and we got married. I remember her dressed in white, her skin shining, her eyes sparkling. I imagine her when she achieved her law diploma, how happy she was when we went out to a fancy restaurant and celebrated. She’d fallen asleep that night on the cab ride home, her head on my shoulder. I recall her in the hospital just after she’d had Shaun, covered in a sheen of sweat, no makeup on, absolutely exhausted – she was still the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.   
Oh, Nora.   
My heart breaks, because I know the Nora I used to laugh with when we were children, who I loved like I never loved anyone else, is gone. My heart is broken, twisted, still frozen, and I just want to rip it out and be dead too. But while she is dead she is safe from the things I worried about. And Shaun, who is all I have left of her, is still out there somewhere. I need to find him. For her. For me.  
“I’ll find who did this,” I say quietly into the silence. “And get Shaun back. I promise.”  
Because I know for certain that whoever did this must die. And if I don’t find Shaun, I will die trying.  
I jog to the door, pressing the button to open it – it slides out of the way, and I’m faced with a dark, empty corridor. The lights flicker. Just one more door to go and I’ll be out of this graveyard.   
I try pressing the button, but the door seems to be jammed – of course. Life wouldn’t make this easy for me, would it? I guess I’ll have to take a detour.   
I turn and go through the door on my right instead, aware that I may not be alone in this place. There are stairs; I leap down them and, through the window, see a shape move and jump out of view. What was that? Wary, I grab a security baton left abandoned on a crate and head through the next door. Another corridor, and another door. I pass through both with only the intention of getting out and getting far away.  
In the next room, I finally see another living thing.   
It leaps at me, hissing, sheeny wings fluttering as it aims for the kill. I whack it hard with the baton, sending it flying and crashing into the wall. It dies with a screech and I walk over to peer down at it, eyes wide. “Giant… roaches?” I whisper to myself. I kick at its carcass, rolling it over, and shudder. Christ. What the hell has happened in this place? In the world?   
Shaking my head, I leave it and step into the generator room. There are three more cockroaches in here, and I intercept them before they can leap at me, smashing them into pulps. Is everyone dead except me and the roaches?  
Some more roaches – whack, whack, whack, whack. They’re all dead, and my baton is covered with slimy blood. I wipe it on my jumpsuit, not bothering to veil my disgust.  
Finally, I find I’m getting somewhere. I enter a room with a computer and the skeleton of a dead doctor. There’s a 10mm pistol on the counter, and I pick it up along with all the ammo I can find. There’s a cryolator here, a great big gun which I’ve only ever heard stories about, sitting in a locked case, but I decide to leave it. I’ve got no bobby pins on me, and I’m certainly no master at lock picking. I sit down at the computer and open it up. There are a few updates and info messages, but all I care about is getting out. I open the evacuation tunnel and then stand up, grabbing my gun. Time to get the hell out of here.  
There are loads of roaches in this tunnel, but luckily I’m a pretty damn good shot. I’m cold and tactical as I kneel at the end of the corridor and methodically kill them all before they notice me, finding my skills still up to scratch. After passing through another door, I find I’m back at the vault’s entrance. Another two skeletons in lab coats here, and another two roaches to kill. I find some 10mm ammo for my gun and then, prize of all prizes, a Pip-Boy. It’s a portable computer that was still in development, the last I heard. I think the last version was 2.2. Well, finder’s keepers.  
I buckle it to my own wrist, letting it boot up, and then figure out how to connect it to the control panel and open the door. No one can help me with this. I let out a sigh of pent-up anxiety and relief as the mechanism begins its work, humming and steaming. Standing back, I watch as the drill unscrews the giant metal vault door and rolls it off its hinges, allowing me to cross the platform towards the elevator. I skid down the stairs and run to it, wanting nothing more than to be away from this terrible ghost place. Where my wife’s body lies and probably will lie forever. This is her grave, and I have no right to be here.  
When the lift arrives, I hurriedly step onto it. In a reflective panel to the side I see my reflection. I look exactly the same as I did before all of this: 5 o’ clock shadow, casual hairstyle, dark eyes. Except now… I can’t seem to recognize myself.  
The lift hums, and I lean back against the metal as it carries me back up to the surface. I have my fingers crossed that it won’t be a total wasteland, that there actually is something I’m fleeing to. After all, if Shaun isn’t here, he must be out there.  
And I’m going to find him.


	3. I Am The Sole Survivor

Sunlight. It’s so bright and so unexpected that it blurs my vision entirely. I throw my arms in front of my face, gasping, my senses assaulted with the sounds, smells, and tastes of the new world I’m in. As my vision clears, shock hits me like a punch to the stomach.  
Sanctuary was once a pretty suburban town filled with white picket fences, gated in by a creek. Now, it’s rubble. And the green of the vegetation has become dull hues of rust-brown and yellow. The trees have all been stripped of their pretty autumn leaves, and I suppose they never grew back – most branches are bare, mottled with moss and fungi. Surprisingly, though, the town hasn’t been hit as badly as I expected. The explosion must have been further away than I thought – only the energy wave caused real damage.  
I stare, depressed, at the haze hanging in the distance, at the cracked and upturned roads, at the abandoned houses. Welcome to the new world.  
Stumbling and still in shock, I make my way back down the path, back through the gate of the compound which is scattered with bones and remnants of clothing. I can barely think of anything else other than the fact that I was last here with Nora and Shaun. Even then, when the world was ending, I had them. Now I have nothing. Nothing but this stupid vault suit, two wedding rings, a gun, and a security baton.  
I am the sole survivor. The lone wanderer.  
Sanctuary is marked on the map of my Pip-Boy the moment I enter the town – I hear the beep. But I don’t care. Is there anyone alive out here? Am I the only survivor of an apocalypse? I bend over all of a sudden and upheave everything in my stomach, which doesn’t happen to be anything at all. Just acid and drool. It doesn’t help me feel any better. I’m shivering as I straighten up and stare at the sky, trying to come to terms with all that has happened.  
Nora, I think. Shaun.  
How did this all happen?  
I stumble down the road towards where my house used to be, seeing something moving across the overgrown lawn…  
Codsworth?  
My breath hitches and I begin to jog towards him, clutching to the only thing that I know. Registering my approach after a few seconds, he turns to face me. He gasps in surprise, mechanical eyes contracting to look me up and down. “As I live and breathe!” Codsworth sounds like he’s going to burst into tears. “It’s-it’s… it’s really you!” If he could hug me, he would have, but instead he just judders on the spot. He’s streaked with rust and grime, but otherwise he’s in pretty good shape.  
“Codsworth…” I say, breathless. “What happened to the world?”  
Codsworth doesn’t seem to understand me. “The world, sir? Well… you’ll find our geraniums are still the envy of Sanctuary Hills! I’m afraid things have been perfectly dull around here.” He perks up. “Things will be so much more exciting with you and missus back! Where is your better half, by the by?”  
Another pang in my stomach as I remember for the hundredth time that she’s gone. And I will never feel her, smell her, see her ever again. It’s over. But my instincts have kicked in; I know that my survival counts on how I conduct myself out here. And I need to survive to find Shaun.  
I stumble over my own words: “They came into the vault… maybe you saw them? Armed, wearing strange outfits.”  
“Hmm. Only Ms. Rose’s boy running around in his Halloween costume. A week early. I swear, the nerve of that woman leaving her brat unsupervised! Ha-ha, not by this family, sir! You and the missus have always been such a… responsible couple. Uh… where is she, by the by?” He’s suspicious now.  
Again, the reminder. And the pang in my chest where my heart hasn’t really thawed after I was unfrozen. I don’t know why I’m bothering to get anything out of Codsworth – his circuitry’s obviously been fried or something. He doesn’t seem to have noticed that everything’s changed.  
“They…” I swallow, clutching my pistol tighter. “They killed her.”  
A long pause. “Sir, these things you’re saying, these terrible things… I believe you need a distraction! Yes, a distraction to calm this dire mood. It’s been ages since we’ve had a proper family activity. Checkers, or perhaps charades. Shaun does so love that game! Is the lad, er, with you?”  
“He’s gone,” I snap, frustration rising. “Goddammit. Someone took him! Someone stole my son!”  
“It’s worse than I thought,” Codsworth says sluggishly. “You’re suffering from hunger-induced paranoia. Not eating properly for two hundred years will do that, I’m afraid!”  
My frustration is immediately replaced with shock. “Two hundred years? What? Are you-?”  
“A bit over two hundred and ten actually, sir. Give or take a little,” Codsworth corrects me. “The Earth’s rotation and some minor dings to the old chronometer... yes, that means you’re two centuries late for dinner! Perhaps I can whip you up a snack? You must be famished.” He laughs, a little nervously, and I frown at him.  
“Codsworth, you’re acting a little bit weird. What’s wrong?”  
Codsworth seems to break apart before me. “I-I-oh sir, it’s been just horrible! Two centuries with no one to talk to, no one to serve! I spent the first ten years trying to keep the floors waxed, but nothing gets nuclear fallout off of vinyl wood! Nothing!”  
“Stay with me, pal,” I say adamantly. “Focus.”  
“I’m afraid I don’t know anything, sir. The bombs came and all of you left in such a hurry. I thought for certain you and your family were… dead!” He sniffs.  
I nod slowly, understanding him entirely.  
Before I can speak, though, he seems to recover all of a sudden. “Now, enough feeling sorry for myself. Shall we search the neighborhood together? The missus and young Shaun may turn up yet.”  
I roll my eyes; he still hasn’t understood. But somehow, even though I know he’s just a robot, I don’t want to ruin everything and make him feel like I do now. Let him believe a little and find out for himself. “All right,” I say, already knowing this will be a waste of time. “Lead the way.”  
“Out to serve, sir!”  
He leads me to the first house, inside which are a group of giant flying bugs – more of them? Great –where I find a stash of bottle caps (which confuses me until Codsworth tells me they’re the currency now) and some more resources I could use on my journey. The next house holds about the same. There’s some food in the fridge: Salisbury steaks, Sugar Bombs, Instamash – more bottle caps and stimpacks, and three more festering bloatflies. I help Codsworth kill the flies and am about to go searching for more useful items when he calls for me feebly: “Sir… the family isn’t here either. They’re really gone, aren’t they?”  
I grit my teeth and say, “Shaun’s out there, Codsworth. I need to find him.”  
“What about Concord, sir? The people there… the last time I checked, they only pummelled me with sticks a few times before I had to run away...”  
“There’s still people alive in Concord?” The idea of finding people, actual living people, takes my breath away. It’s a pretty large step from the gigantic insects and robot butler I’ve been dealing with thus far.  
“Yes, although they’re a bit rough. You remember the way? Just across the southern footbridge out of the neighborhood and past the Red Rocket station?”  
I nod.  
“I will wait here and secure the homestead!” he declares.  
“Right,” I mutter under my breath. “You do that.”  
I part from Codsworth without so much as a goodbye. My mind is set only on the next thing, then the next. At the end of it all I will find Shaun. My son. And I can finally get redemption in the form of wreaking revenge on whoever took him.

 

I find the dog at the Red Rocket station. He’s just pawing around at the rubble, searching for food, whining to himself. At first I’m wary – I raise my gun as he trots towards me, but lower it when I see he’s simply excited to see me. He’s a German Shepard, a little mangy, but more or less whole and friendly. “Hey, boy,” I mutter uncertainly. “What’re you doing out here all by yourself?”  
The dog barks joyfully and sniffles at my open hand. Ever since I was a boy, I’d always wanted a dog. I would have gotten one with Nora had she not been allergic.  
Slowly, I crouch down, scratching him behind the ears. “Where’s your owner, buddy?”  
The dog cocks its head at me. “Okay, then,” I decide. “Let’s stick together.”  
After all, a lively dog is better than flying bugs or a mentally unstable robot.  
We travel together into Concord; I break into a few of the houses to search for food and medication, and we pass an odd carcass as we enter the city: it’s a rather lumpy, hairless cow with… two heads. I try to ignore this disparity and concentrate instead on killing the gigantic mosquitoes which were swarming it. It sort of sucks that the only unnatural wildlife I’ve seen so far are gigantic bugs. Maybe a live, two-headed cow would be nice, come to think of it.  
It’s not long until I can hear the popping and cracking of gunfire in the distance. Codsworth wasn’t kidding; this place really is rough. Sandbags have been piled high to be used as cover, and there are spent shell casings everywhere, rolling under my feet. My companion cocks his head at the sound, panting, and then bounds off towards it like a maniac. I raise my pistol and jog after him, hissing at him to stop. Stupid dog.  
As we round the building ahead of us, I finally see the shooters – a scattering of people dressed in grungy rags, some with hoods and goggles over their faces, yelling menacingly as they shoot at the Museum of Freedom.  
I’m not stupid; I can tell who the bad guys are.  
I instinctively shoot the closest man point blank in the back of the head, and he falls with a gurgling yell. I can feel the heat of the pistol in my hands as I let loose a few more shots at his friends. Bullets whistle past as I twist and duck behind a car, reloading as fast as possible. I only have two clips left; hopefully, these guys will have more on them that I could use. My new dog hurdles past me and bounds right into one of our assailants, paws on his chest while he rips at the man’s face. He falls with a yell, providing a distraction so I can leap up again and shoot at the other three consecutively, the gun recoiling sharply in my hands. The first shots go wide, pinging off cars and walls, but two of them hit one of the men in the chest. He jerks twice, gurgling, and then falls down dead. I streak across the street to take cover behind a doorway, bullets following me the whole way. Shrapnel tears into my skin, burning hot, and I have to grit my teeth against the searing pain. “Asshole!” one of them yells. I spin, lightning-quick, and fire off wild shots in his direction. The sound of a body hitting the tarmac tells me I killed him.  
I hear the twin sounds of footsteps running off further into the city; the last two are fleeing, perhaps to round up more of their friends. I glance around the doorway, searching the road, but it’s empty now. I’m safe for a little while.  
I check the corpses for better weapons, but they only have makeshift pipe rifles and pistols. Sticking with my 10mm pistol is perhaps the best chance I’ve got out here. They do, however, have some leather armor which could be useful to me. It’s worn and scratched, but better protection than nothing. I put it on over my vault suit and collect more 10mm ammo, glad for the extra carrying space. As I pass below the balcony of the Museum of Freedom, a voice calls down to me: “Hey, you!”  
I start, staring up. It’s a man in a cowboy-type hat, holding a large laser musket. He isn’t shooting at me, so it seems he might be friendly. “I’ve got a group of settlers inside! The raiders are just inside the door. Grab that laser musket and help us – please!”  
He disappears from view and runs back inside, and I’m left feeling unsure whether or not to be a nice guy or to just leave and find my son. Then again, I’ve always played the nice guy.  
“Come on,” I murmur to the dog, picking the discarded laser musket off of the museum’s front steps. At last, a useful upgrade. “Let’s do this.”


	4. The Minutemen

The moment I step inside the museum I’m forced to close the door again to avoid a hail of bullets. I count to three, crouch, and then sprint wildly for cover on the inside of a corridor, bullets smacking into the rotting wooden planks beside me. Cranking up the laser musket, I twist my upper body and swing it around, aiming at my nearest enemy: a woman wearing a green harness and carrying a crude pipe rifle. The laser musket literally blasts her to smithereens, and I duck back into cover as answering bullets splinter the wood right by my face. I change tactics, leaving the front hall and sprinting further into the building, leaping over discarded mannequins and old-age weapons. A commentary is playing over the speakers, spooking me, but I just about manage to ignore it.   
On the inside of the building, I can see the floor has completely caved in, allowing view of the basement. Ducking yet more bullets, I run towards the security-locked cage at the bottom, halting curiously beside it. “Huh,” I murmur to myself. “Locked?”  
I could never help being attracted to a challenge.  
I power up the terminal, allowing myself a quick smile as I figure out the code – four letters, just a case of presuming which ones go where. There’s a satisfying click as the door unlocks, and I shoulder my weapon as I pull it open and check out the machine.   
Ah, a fusion core.   
Even having only been inside one suit of power armour in my whole life, I can understand why so many people think them precious. One fusion core could power a whole building for weeks. I grab it from its port and buckle it onto my belt, knowing it could come in useful later. Then, cracking my knuckles, I head back out into battle.

One man is on the landing above me; he grins manically as he shoots, yelling obscenities to deter me. I silence him with one shot of my charged-up musket, and he falls like a ragdoll to the floor below. As I climb the stairs, I note that there are only two visible enemies left. I shoot one expertly in the leg from where I’m standing and then roll out of the way as he fires back aimlessly. He stumbles, bleeding, and I shoot him once more; this time in the stomach. He falls, slumping onto his own gun.   
Fifteen bullets left. My soldier instincts tell me they will be enough.   
I stay out of sight as I climb the stairs to the next floor, only narrowly missed by a bullet that streaks past my head and thuds into the wall beside me. I react instinctively, shooting in the direction I know my enemy is; an answering shriek of pain and then silence tell me that I’ve succeeded in killing them. Now to find the man who asked me in here in the first place – top floor, maybe? The dog, whining still, looks up at me mournfully. “Come on,” I say, scratching his head. “Let’s go.”  
I take a short cut up to the third floor, wanting to be careful in case more enemies are lying in wait. Before I have time to duck or react to protect myself, I’m whacked hard in the face with the end of a pool cue. I stumble, seeing stars, and the enemy I hadn’t prepared for advances on me, chuckling. As he brings the cue down to hit me again, my new best friend streaks past me and barrels into him, growling and digging his teeth into the man’s arm.   
See, the one problem with using such a long weapon is it’s slow; too slow. And you need a lot more power to use it.   
I get up and knee him in the stomach while my dog yanks at his arm. He spits blood, falling forwards onto the floor, and I quickly unholster my security baton and whack him brutally in the back off the neck. Dead, dead, dead. Just like his friends.   
I walk away before he’s even hit the floor, wiping blood from my broken nose. The dog sniffs at his body and then follows me, tail wagging. As I round the wall, I see a door at the end of the hallway open; standing in it with his gun raised is the man who called to me for help. He sees me and lowers her gun, relieved, waving me towards him. He has a gentle, weathered face, and he's wearing a long brown coat and hat; he looks like a sheriff from the old west.   
“Man, I don’t know who you are, but your timing’s impeccable,” he tells me as I walk into the room. I can tell he’s impressed.  
The man isn’t alone; in the room are several more people, all looking exhausted and worried, staring at me as I enter. I’m not surprised by their expressions, since I probably look pretty terrible: blood streaming down my face, my beard already growing back, my eyes bloodshot from unshed tears, face haggard.   
Their leader shifts in his stance. “I’m Preston Garvey. Commonwealth minutemen.”  
“Glad to help,” I reply genuinely, still attempting to staunch the warm flow of blood leaking from my nose. I can’t even feel the pain – my senses have been numbed by everything that’s happened.  
“Well, if that’s true, we could use some more good will. As you can see, we’re in a bit of a mess here.” He gestures to the rest of the people in room – I look at them more closely, sizing them up. There’s an old woman with hazy, bloodshot eyes sitting on the couch. A very upset-looking Asian woman is pacing the room, a man I guess is her husband sitting on the floor by her and rocking back and forth. And, finally, there’s a man with a pompadour hairstyle dressed in greasy overalls, tinkering away at a terminal. They’re an odd-looking bunch, but I’d be a hypocrite if I mentioned such a thing out loud.  
“Please, go on,” I say.   
“A month ago, there were twenty of us. Yesterday there were eight. Now we’re five.” He frowns, getting angrier by the second. “First it was the ghouls in Lexington, and now this mess!”  
“Ghouls? What are ghouls?” Nothing in this world is making sense anymore. I’m in a fantasy land full of giant insects, two-headed animals, minutemen and ghouls.   
“Wow,” Preston says, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “You really aren’t from around here, are you? Ghouls are… irradiated people. Most are just like you and me – they look pretty messed up and live for a long time but they’re still just people. The ones I’m talking about are different. The radiation’s rotted their brains, made them feral. They’ll rip you apart just as soon as look at you.” He contains himself, shifting his musket into another hand. “Anyway, we thought Concord would be a safe place to settle. Those raiders proved us wrong. But… well, we do have one idea.”  
Raiders, I think. Raiders are the new terrorists. The resident assholes.  
“One good idea could make all the difference,” I reply seriously. The dog, having sat at my feet, pants as if in agreement.   
Preston glances at the man in overalls and says, “Sturges, tell him.”  
The mechanic turns to me, his eyes seeming to light up. “There’s a crashed Vertibird up on the roof. Old school; pre-war. You might’ve seen it. Well, looks like one of it’s passengers left behind a seriously sweet goodie: we’re talking a full suit of cherry T-45 power armour, military issue.”  
I whistle under my breath, impressed. “I like it.”  
“Knew you would!” Sturges says, grinning. “And, once you’re in the suit, you can rip that minigun off the vertibird and blow those raiders straight to hell, you dig?”  
I nod slowly, liking the idea even more.   
“Now,” Sturges says, leaning back against the desk. “As for the power armour, it’s outta juice. Probably has been for a hundred years. It can be powered up again, but… we’re a bit stuck.”  
“I’ll help if I can,” I say immediately.  
“What you’ll need is an old pre-war FC – a standardised fusion core,” Preston cuts in. When my face remains artfully blank, he continues, “Your high grade nuclear battery? Used by the military and some companies way back when. And we know right where to find one…”  
“But,” Sturges interrupts, “we can’t get to the damn thing. It’s down in the basement, locked behind a security gate.” He sighs. “Look, I fix stuff. I tinker. But bypassing security ain’t exactly my forte. You could give it a shot.”  
“Actually,” I say, plucking the fusion core I collected out of my belt loop and waving it at them, “I already got it.”  
Both of them grin in surprise. “Well, all right,” Preston says. “Maybe our luck’s finally turning around. Once you jack the core into the power armour and grab that minigun, those raiders’ll know they picked the wrong fight. Good luck.”  
I nod sharply at him and then tap my dog once on the head. “Come on, boy.”  
We head together out the other door at the end of the room, which leads to the roof. As we walk, I fiddle with my Pip-Boy, seeing that Concord has been mapped on just like Sanctuary – it’s a pretty damn nifty piece of tech. It also lists my weight and the weight of the clothes and weapons I’m carrying; my health as determined by my heart-beat, walking rhythm and blood pressure; and there’s also several tabs in which I can list in my weapons, ammo and armour in order to keep track of them. I’ll do that later.  
I shove open the door to the roof, having to smash it with my shoulder twice before it gives way and swings open on its rusted hinges. Just as Sturges said, there’s a crashed vertibird just sitting on the roof, a darkened shell of what it once was. And beside it, the power armour – missing a few plates, but still providing much more protection than any other armour could. I walk over, fusion core clutched tightly in my hand, and then shove it straight into the slot at the back of the armour. I also twist the wheel, and the armour hisses and slides open for me to climb in. I have to press myself against the padded interior correctly, fitting my face into the helmet, and then press a button in the armour’s fingertips to seal it behind me. It beeps several times and the system blinks on, scanning the roof around me. “Perfect,” I whisper. I test it out, sliding my arms and legs, crouching so I can test how flexible the joints are. It all seems to be in working order.  
Now in mission mode, I stomp over to the vertibird and rip the minigun off its turret, stepping through and lining myself up with the edge of the roof. My adrenaline is rising, overtaking any apprehension I may have.   
More raiders have begun to gather down below, and the moment they see my great hulking shape standing on the edge of the roof, they begin to shoot. The bullets ping uselessly off the metal of my armour as I bring the minigun up and aim in their general direction. They barely have time to run for cover as it spins up and begins peppering the road below with red-hot bullets, so loudly that I find myself wincing. Three die instantly, but the rest manage to get to safety.   
I switch the minigun to my right hand, inhale deeply, and then jump right off of the roof, aiming for a raider shooting from behind a stack of sandbags. The tremor my landing causes makes his legs buckle, and he cries out; I switch to my pistol to shoot him twice in the chest, then spin and throw my security baton through the air towards the woman hiding behind a bookcase in the convenience store. Won’t be needing that anymore. She stumbles back, stunned, and I shoot her five times to make sure she’s dead.   
I hear the familiar sound of a laser musket and gaze up to see Preston standing on the balcony, aiding me from above. I signal to him to be careful, then fire up the minigun again; this time, only two raiders are mowed down – they’re not a stupid as they seem, and they’ve already figured out my tactics. I run towards the end of the road, where some of them have fled to, and am forced to duck a raider with a shotgun – he’s shooting wildly, prancing from side to side. I punch him hard in the face, and the metal fist of my power armour crumples his features, rupturing his brain. He collapses, gun clattering to the floor, and I turn to the next raider – she’s in the building beside me, shooting from above. Caught off balance by one of her bullets, I spin to face her, and just as I raise the minigun again I hear something which chills me to the very bone.  
The drains to my left explode open, and out of them climb a monster that must be about ten feet tall, releasing a bloodcurdling roar that makes my hairs stand on end. It’s vast and black, with jagged teeth and claws each the length of my arm, all ending in well-sharpened points.   
“DEATHCLAW!” one of the raiders shouts. He turns and flees, joined by a few of his comrades as the monster climbs fully out of the drain and thrusts its head in the air. I stumble backwards, shocked.   
And I’d thought I’d seen everything.   
Some of the remaining raiders bravely – or just stupidly – begin to shoot at the creature. It roars in pain, bounding over to them and ripping at them with its gigantic claws. They die gurgling for help, their bodies literally split in two. The deathclaw next turns to me, a glint of malice in its bottomless black eyes.   
Shit, shit, shit…  
The dog – my new, valiant dog – growls and leaps towards the monster, aiming for one of its reptilian claws. It slams its tail into him impatiently and he goes flying, whimpering as he lands and skids to a stop, no longer moving.   
My shock halts; it blazes into fury. No one hurts my dog.   
With a war cry, I spin up the minigun and aim it right at the deathclaw. The bullets tear into its reptilian skin, ushering inky blood from the wounds; the deathclaw wails and bounds towards me with intent to kill. I roll out of the way, still shooting – any time now, I’m thinking. Any time I will fill it with enough holes to make it die. Or it’ll kill me instead.  
The deathclaw catches me in the head with a glancing blow and I almost pass out from the impact. I literally spin on the spot and crash into the side of a building, causing the bricks to cave in. My power armor beeps in warning; my helmet’s status is very low, and soon it will be ejected from the power frame’s skeleton. I spit out blood, ignoring the pain, and push myself up straight, dodging as the deathclaw charges at me again. I press the minigun’s trigger, yelling as again I fill its body with red-hot lead. The creature roars again, one last time, turning to claw at me – this turns out to be its last mistake. When it turns, I have better access to its head, and the bullets end up bursting straight out through the back of its skull. With one last massive groan, it slumps sideways onto the asphalt, dead, and I cease my fire.   
I’m breathing heavily inside the damaged helmet of my suit, sweating profusely. I can’t believe I’m still alive. I drop the minigun, having run out of 5mm bullets, and find my hands are shaking within the power armor. A warning flashes in the lower corner of my screen, letting me know that it’s about to run out of battery and I won’t be able to walk in it anymore. Sighing, I press the button to eject and step out. It unfolds, and I stumble backwards, crouching for a second on the pavement to right myself. The breeze is cool on my face and in my hair, and the air has never felt better in my lungs.   
My dog whimpers, and I become alert once again; grabbing my pistol, I run over to him and skid to a halt. Just one stimpack should do the trick – looks like he’s got a few broken ribs, bless the thing. I inject him and then stroke his muzzle, thinking hard.   
Today has been one of the longest days of my life, and not for no small reason. I’ve been cryogenically frozen for two hundred years; I’ve watched my wife be killed in front of my eyes and my son be taken away; I’ve been attacked by flying insects of all sizes of shapes; I’ve emerged into a world so far from the one I remember that I might as well be on a different planet; I’ve been shot at by raiders; I’ve been almost eaten by a giant reptilian monster…  
Well, it’s been a hard day. I’ll leave it at that.  
After a while, as the stimpack’s incredible healing effects begin to register, the dog gets up and begins to limp around me, tail wagging. I stroke his back, running my fingers through his fur. “Dogmeat,” I decide finally, smiling. “That’s what I’ll call you, boy.”   
It’s perfect. A morbid sort of joke in this arid wasteland of Massachusetts. It’ll be me and Dogmeat against the world.   
Together, Dogmeat and I stand up and begin our slow walk back to the Museum of Freedom.


	5. The Great Green Jewel

As we enter the museum, I see that Preston has brought everyone down to the entrance, and they’re sitting among lanterns and candles. “You okay?” Preston asks the old woman as we walk towards them.  
“Fine, fine, Preston,” she replies, waving him away. “Quit fussin’.”  
“Hi,” I say, announcing my presence.  
Preston turns to me, and I can see the shock on his face. “That was… a pretty amazing display,” he says. “I’m just glad you’re on our side.”  
“Are you guys gonna be okay, now?” I ask, looking around at the five settlers.  
“Yeah,” Preston replies wearily. “For a while, anyway. We can at least move some pla –” He stops, bringing his gun down to his side. “Listen… when we first met, you said you were glad to help. Well, you did. And we owe you our lives. So here. It ain’t much, but it’s the best way I can say thank you.” He hands me a small pouch of bottle caps, and I honestly don’t know what to say.  
“You’re welcome,” I reply, tucking it in my pocket with the rest of my bottle caps. “Any time.”  
Preston appears thoughtful. “Well, since you say that, maybe you’ll come to Sanctuary with us. We could use your help getting settled there.”  
I imagine going back with these people, defending them, helping them repair all the houses I used to remember as whole. Going back to the home I made with Nora, the wife I ache for. Back to Codsworth, who’d be delighted to see me and insist on cooking up a meal, making my bed. But going back, for me, would be giving up. It would be settling down, allowing myself to get close to people who probably won’t be much help in finding my son. Allowing myself to grieve the losses of my family, after which I’ll never be able to go through with anything. No, I can’t go back. I have to move forwards. I have to get Shaun back.  
“What would I need to do?” I ask.  
“You’d need to stay strong, like you been,” the old lady interrupts. “ ’Cause there’s more to your destiny – I’ve seen it. And I know your pain.”  
I stare at her, unsure whether she’s messing with me or not. “My destiny? What do you mean?”  
“You’re a man out of time, out of hope… but all’s not lost. I can feel… your son’s energy – he’s alive…”  
I become alert all of a sudden. “Where is my son? Where is Shaun?”  
She sighs. “Oh, I wish I knew, kid. I really do. But it’s not like I can see your son. I can just… feel his life force, his energy. He’s out there. And even I don’t need the sight to tell you where you should start lookin’.” She lowers her voice, making it mysterious. “The great green jewel of the Commonwealth, Diamond City. The biggest settlement around.”  
“What’s in Diamond City? Is Shaun there?” I ask, having never heard of the place in my life.  
“Look, kid,” the old woman says, leaning back in her seat. “I’m tired now. Maybe you bring me some chems later, and the sight’ll paint a clearer picture.”  
“No!” Preston says. “Mama Murphy, we talked about this.”  
“Ah, Preston – we’re all gonna die eventually! We’re gonna need the sight.” She points at me. “And our friend here, he’s gonna need it too.” She nods to herself. “Now, let’s get going. Sanctuary awaits…”  
I sigh rubbing a hand over my face. “I’m not coming,” I tell them. “This… Diamond City you mentioned; if there’s any chance whatsoever that my son is there, that’s where I need to go. I need to find Shaun.”  
Preston nods, understanding entirely. “You do what you need to do,” he says. “Keep safe out there in the Commonwealth – and you know, you’ll have somewhere to come back to once you do find your boy.”  
“Thanks,” I say genuinely.  
“Good luck, kid,” Mama Murphy tells me.

\- - -

I sleep that night in an abandoned house in Concord, and I dream that Nora is still alive.  
When I wake up, it feels like my heart has been torn out; my chest aches, and my eyes are burning. I love her. I love her so much it almost seems impossible that she could be gone. Dogmeat has curled up by my side, and he glances at me in confusion as I cry, finally, after what has seemed like ages.  
I cry for Nora. And then I promise myself never to do it again.  
Unable to fall back asleep, I make a fire using a few old matches and rotting wood and stew myself some meat from that two-headed cow – a brahmin, one of the settlers had told me before they left to head back to sanctuary. It’s a cow that got mutated by the radiation. There are radstags, too, and radscorpions. And bloatflies, and bloodbugs, and stingwings…  
None of them sound inviting.  
The meat isn’t bad; a little chewy and gamey, cooked right through. I feed some of it to Dogmeat, and he gulps it down appreciatively. For dessert I eat some Dandy Boy’s apples, thanking God or whoever’s out there for all the imperishables that were created.  
Afterwards, I manage to fall asleep once more, and this time there are no dreams; I wake up early in the morning with Dogmeat licking at my face. Pushing him off me, I make another fire to cook myself some Salisbury steaks, eat them, and then climb out through the rubble to the road outside. It’s another sunny day in Massachusetts. “Let’s go,” I say to Dogmeat.

\- - -

 

This morning, the world is streaked with pinks and purples. It looks rather beautiful, which I didn’t think was possible in a nuclear wasteland. All I have left in terms of weapons is the pistol, because I left what I couldn’t carry behind. As I stride down the road out of Concord, I see another one of those brahmins, this one alive. Beside it, sitting on the edge of the road, is a short-haired woman smoking a cigarette. As I approach, she looks up at me warily through bloodshot eyes. “Hi,” I say.  
“What’s your story?” she asks, flicking ash into the grass. “Looking to trade, rob me, or just ask directions to Diamond City?”  
“Just looking for love, sweetheart,” I reply sarcastically, not liking her tone.  
“Ha! Boy, have you come to the wrong place,” she says with a grin. “My lovin’ days have long since passed. But I’ll tell you what, wiseass. You made an old girl smile, and that ain’t easy. You want to do some trading, I’ll give you a discount.”  
“Did you say something about directions to Diamond City earlier?” I ask hopefully.  
The smile falls from her face. “Directions. Hmph. Figures. Just keep goin’ until you see the skyline, across the river. You’ll find the ‘Great Green Jewel’ inside the city limits.”  
“Thanks,” I say.  
I leave her where she is, on the side of the road, and Dogmeat and I continue down the road with our hopes a little higher. This nuclear wasteland ain’t so bad after all. 

Getting to the city takes a lot of walking. I stop at midday to eat some Sugarbombs and have a drink of water, and then again once it’s late afternoon and I’ve reached the river. The city looks foggy and dark, and I can only imagine the terrors lurking within. I decide that I’ll sleep here and head in once it’s morning and I’m alert. I set up camp by a tree, building a shelter out of fallen branches, and cook myself the rest of the brahmin meat I have left. When I sleep, Dogmeat curls up beside me again, providing heat.  
The next morning, I’m up with first light, polishing my pistol and checking my ammunition and bottlecaps. Perhaps I should have traded with that lady after all; could have done with a sleeping bag and a better gun. The polishing comes as part of my new routine: I wake up, check the straps of my armour, gargle some water and wash my teeth with my finger, take account of ammunition and money, then polish my weapons. In my opinion, not taking care of your weapon should be a crime. I know a guy in the war who never cleaned his gun, and one day it literally blew up in his face. He was in hospital for a month, getting facial reconstruction surgery to repair the damage.  
Once my pistol looks as good as it’s ever been, I pack up all my things and head off towards the city. It takes another half an hour to reach it, and by then the sun is already hot on my back and neck. The city is in even worse shape than the rest of Massachusetts that I’ve seen. The buildings have all been blasted with holes or overgrown with weeds, and rust is streaked over everything. I raise my gun as I enter the city limits, already hearing odd sounds in the silence – distant gunfire and the creaking of metal in the wind.  
The first enemy I run into is a super mutant. The government had been working on using atomic energy to create Superhumans before the war – I suppose this was their final result: a great cannibalistic green blob of a man with bulging muscles and a killer instinct. The moment he comes into view, I shoot him five times in the chest. He dies with a great big ogre-like roar, and I stare at his fallen body, approaching it cautiously. My heart is beating rapidly in my chest. If he’d seen me first, I’d be in a stew pot before sunset.  
“Puny human!” I hear from beyond the buildings. He has friends.  
Swearing loudly, I holster my weapon and run as fast as I can away from the sound of their voices. If his friends are even half as big as he is, I won’t stand a chance against them with my little pistol and soft human flesh.  
Five minutes later, I can no longer hear them, and I’m very out of breath. I pause, hands on my knees, and scratch at my half-grown beard. I didn’t use a stimpack to heal my nose or the concussion that deathclaw gave me, so I’ve still got a pretty terrible headache. Stimpacks are for more serious injuries, like broken bones. I know I have a great big purple bruise covering the bridge of my nose and both my eyes, and an egg-sized bump on the side of my head, not to mention the numerous cuts and scars scattered over my face. I honestly can’t believe I’ve survived this long.  
“Lookin’ for Diamond City?”  
The voice makes me flinch; I spin and point my gun at the speaker, seeing some guy dressed in baseball pads and a helmet. A white diamond is painted on his chest. After deciding he must be friendly, I lower my weapon and ask, “What?”  
“If you’re lookin’ for Diamond City, just follow the signs,” the man says. He gestures with his own gun to a great big sign with an arrow on it.  
Thank you, thank you.  
“Thanks,” I tell him smoothly. Well, at least I feel a little safer now. If Diamond City has guards, then it must have inhabitants worth protecting. And if it has inhabitants worth protecting, they might know where Shaun is. I glance at the sign and then head in the direction it’s pointing, careful to keep my gun raised. All of a sudden, I realize where I am – a place I’d come to with Nora before the war, for an entertaining night out.  
It’s the stadium.  
It’s painted green… the great green jewel… is this Diamond City?  
I jog further along the wall, hugging it, and slow down when I can hear gunfire ahead of me. There’s danger everywhere in this city. In the area ahead are about three men dressed in the same armour as the guy who gave me directions, shooting towards a building that’s rotting away. I hear roars and grunting voices, recognizing their enemies as the same hulking green giants that almost got me. I jog and then duck behind a wooden sign that says:  
DIAMOND CITY  
What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. This. World.  
There are a few more shots from the other men, then silence. The battle’s won quicker than I anticipated. I straighten up, staring around me at the carnage. One of the guards nods at me as he passes, acknowledging my help. “Damn,” another says, coming up to me. “Not afraid of mutants, huh? You’re our kinda guy.”  
I nod slowly, and he walks past, heading towards a gate at the end of the road to return to his patrol. I follow him hesitantly, holstering my weapon once again. I pass through the awkwardly-constructed doorway into the square outside the stadium, where they used to sell snacks and drinks and t-shirts. Where Nora and I had a picture taken way back when. The same statue of a famous baseball player is standing in the centre, surrounded by rubble and upturned bricks. It’s about midday by now, but the square is entirely empty save for a few more guards and a young woman shouting at an intercom.  
I walk towards her, unnoticed for the moment.  
“What do you mean you can’t open the gate?” she’s exclaiming. “Stop playing around, Danny! I’m standing out in the open here, for crying out loud!”  
I stop behind her, and Dogmeat sits at my feet. She’s a woman who I assume is in her late twenties, a few years younger than I am, with shoulder-length deep brown hair and a press cap on her head. She’s wearing a red leather coat and boots that look like she made them herself – like most of the people I’ve seen so far, she’s splattered with grime, but pulls it off surprisingly well. I wonder instantly what her story is, and why she’s out in the open instead of inside the city.  
Danny, the man on the other end of the intercom, replies, “I got orders not to let you in, Ms Piper. I’m sorry. I’m just doing my job.” He sounds weary, as if he’s gone through this several times.  
The woman gestures widely and sarcastically with her hands. “Ooh, ‘just doing your job?’ Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it? ‘Oh look, it’s the scary reporter!’ Boo!”  
I find myself smiling.  
“I’m sorry,” Danny says again, “but Mayor McDonough’s really steamed, Piper. Sayin’ that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city’s in a tizzy.”  
Piper growls in frustration and jabs a finger at the intercom angrily. “You open this gate right now, Danny Sullivan! I live here. You can’t just lock me out!”  
He clicks off, and she sighs irritably, turning away from the entrance. As she turns towards me, I for a split second think she looks like Nora. But, after a moment, I decide they look nothing alike. Nora had fair skin and eyes as dark as her hair. This woman has a spattering of freckles over her nose, and hazel-green eyes. Something about her face is very sincere, very approachable, but I don’t know why exactly. She starts a little when she sees me, and then arches an eyebrow; I can almost see the cogs turning behind those pretty eyes. Discreetly, she leans a little closer to me, whispering, “You – you want in to Diamond City, right?”  
I blink. “What? Who are you?”  
“Shh! Play along,” she murmurs. She angles herself towards the intercom, raising her voice: “What was that? You said you’re a trader up from Quincy? You have enough supplies to keep the general store stocked for a whole month? Huh.”  
She holds out a hand towards me, signalling for me to wait. I don’t particularly like being used, but I’m intrigued enough to play along.  
“You hear that, Danny? You gonna open this gate and let us in, or are you going to be the one talking to crazy Myrna about losing out on all this supply?”  
Danny clicks on again, sounding miffed. “Geez, all right. No need to make it personal, Piper. Give me a minute.”  
Piper and I back away from the gate as it hums and clanks, the levers lifting it upwards. She turns back towards me with an impish smile. “Better head inside quick before ole’ Danny catches onto the bluff,” she says.  
It doesn’t look particularly welcoming on the outside, but perhaps I shouldn’t be judging a book by its cover. “This place… Diamond City. What is it?” I ask.  
“Oh, the ‘green jewel’?” Piper says, brightening. “She’s a sight. Everyone who’s anyone in the Commonwealth is from here, settled here –“ she gestures awkwardly to herself “– got kicked out of here. A big wall, some power, working plumbing, schools, and some security goons are what make Diamond City the big monster it is.” A small, self-conscious chuckle. “Love it or hate it, you’ll see it for yourself soon enough.” She motions over her shoulder with her head. “Let’s go.”  
I follow her uncertainly as she walks with laid-back confidence through the deactivated ticket machines towards the stadium’s entrance. An old man, short and pot-bellied, calls to Piper as we approach: “Piper! Who let you back inside? I told Sullivan to keep that gate shut!” He chokes on his own words. “You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer! The... the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I’ll have that printer scrapped for parts-”  
Piper, seemingly unaffected by his threats, wiggles her fingers mockingly in his direction. “Ooh, that a statement, Mr McDonough? ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press!’” She turns to me, her eyes flashing indignantly. “Why don’t we ask the newcomer – do you support the news? ‘Cause the mayor’s threatening to throw a free speech in the dumpster!”  
I answer honestly, not even needing to think: “Always believed in freedom of the press.”  
“Oh,” Mr McDonough says, retaining his anger and turning to me. “I didn’t mean to bring you into this argument, sir. No no no… You look like Diamond City material! Welcome to the great green jewel of the Commonwealth! Safe. Happy. A fine place to come, spend your money, settle down.” He shoots Piper a look of pure spite. “Don’t let this muckraker here tell you otherwise, all right?”  
I hesitate. “I’m… sure your city’s a great place…”  
“Yeah,” Piper snorts. “Greatest house of cards in the Commonwealth… until the wind blows.”  
The mayor shakes his head, clearing his throat. “Now, was there anything in particular you came to our city for?”  
“I’m trying to find someone,” I say vaguely. Both of them perk up, looking at me closely.  
“Trying to find someone?” Mayor McDonough repeats. “Who?”  
I make a split-second decision. “My baby boy,” I mutter. “Shaun. He’s less than a year old.”  
They must both see the exhaustion and grief on my blood-stained face, because their reactions are simultaneous. “Wait... your son’s missing?” Piper sounds partly pitiful, partly outraged. She turns to glare at the mayor. “You hear that, McDonough? Is Diamond City Security just gonna stand by while a father searches for his infant son all on his own?”  
“Don’t listen to her,” the mayor says quickly. “While I am afraid that our security team can’t follow every case that comes through, I’m confident you can find help here. Diamond City has every conceivable service known to man. One of our great citizens can surely find the time to help you.”  
“The mayor of a great city surely must know everyone,” I say cunningly. “Who can help me?”  
He seems uncertain. “Well, there is one private citizen. Nick Valentine. A… detective of sorts who specializes in tracking people down. Usually for debts or whatnot.” He straightens his suit. “Now, I have to get going. I’m sorry Diamond City Security doesn’t have time to help, but I’m sure mister Valentine charges a very reasonable fee.”  
As he begins to walk away, Piper exclaims, “This is ridiculous! Diamond City Security can’t spare one officer to help? I want the truth! What’s the real reason security never investigates kidnappings?”  
“I’ve had enough of this, Piper!” the mayor returns irritably. He wags his finger at her. “From now on, consider you and that little sister of yours on notice!”  
He turns and begins to walk away for real this time, and Piper shouts after him: “Yeah, keep talkin’ McDonough! That’s all you’re good for!”  
He mutters something to himself as he enters the city and leaves Piper and I alone.  
She sighs in frustration, turning to me. I have to say, she’s definitely intrigued me. I know she’s an outlawed reporter, enemy of the mayor, and outstanding citizen all rolled into one, and I’ve hardly even introduced myself to her. “Well,” she says. “I’m impressed. Not everyone can claw information out of McDonough’s tight-fisted hands.” She pauses, twisting her fingers uneasily as she fully takes me in, surveying the blood and bruises and the bright blue vault jumpsuit beneath it all. Again, I imagine how terrible I must look. She finally meets my eyes, her own bright with curiosity. “Hmm… why don’t you stop by my office after you see Valentine? I think I just found my next story.”


	6. A Pretty Sarcastic Interview

The moment I climb up the steps and stand looking over the inside of the stadium, my breath is snatched from my lungs. It’s beautiful in an oddly misshapen way, all the buildings made from old tin sheets and roughly nailed wood. It’s beautiful because it seems that despite nuclear devastation, people have still managed to build something for themselves, which goes against all I’d predicted. It’s pretty impressive.  
I begin walking down the steps. Piper’s ahead of me, and I see her greet a little girl just at the entrance of the city – the girl also has dark hair, I see, and their features are somewhat similar. This must be her little sister. “Piper!” the girl shouts, jogging over.  
“Hey, kiddo,” Piper says fondly, walking up. “How’re the paper sales?”  
The girl frowns. “Well, the presses are getting overloaded. That motor is going to go soon if we don’t replace it.”  
Piper waves away her concerns. “Ah, you’ve been saying that for weeks, and the old girl keeps cranking. Stop worrying so much.” She nods towards the building on their left. “I gotta head into the office. Start whistling if you see any angry politicians coming our way.”  
“Why?” the girl asks, catching on. “Is something wrong?” Piper walks past without an answer. “Piper?” I follow Piper, passing the little girl, and she eyes me curiously.  
“Hey,” I say. “Wait – I was just gonna ask…”  
“Where Valentine’s office is?” Piper finishes for me, turning just before she enters her office. She points to a path on the left of the central area. “Go straight down there, turn right, and keep going. Just… follow the signs, I guess.”  
“Right,” I say. “Thanks, by the way, for everything.”  
“No problem,” Piper replies easily. “And remember to stop by later.”  
“I will.”  
She leaves me alone, entering the old metal caravan that makes up the offices of “Publick Occurrences”. I begin to walk to the Valentine Detective Agency. Several of the city locals are intrigued by my appearance, especially by the vault suit I’m wearing. As I pass them, I hear mentions of places I’ve never heard of before: the Combat Zone, the Freedom Trail, Parson’s State Asylum. It’s almost enough to do my head in. Dogmeat, drawn by the smells of the marketplace, wanders off to find food, leaving me alone walking the dirty yet well-lit streets of Diamond City. I do as Piper says, turning right the moment I see a fluorescent sign with a giant pink heart on it. At the end of the alley here, I can see another heart and an arrow pointing into a shack. Seems I’ve found it.  
A small child of about ten runs past me in rags, staring at me curiously. His friend, a girl with short hair, actually stops to stare blatantly at me as I open the door of the detective agency and head inside.  
The badly-lit room is cluttered with papers and files, a couple of cigars left in an ashtray on one of the desks. There’s no sign of a male detective anywhere – just a woman with her back to me, sorting files and objects into piles. “Oh, Nick,” she whispers. “Told you your luck wouldn’t last forever.”  
“Something wrong?” I ask, feeling like I’m interrupting something.  
She turns in surprise to face me, and then sighs. “Another stray coming in from the rain.” She looks at me fully, obviously distraught. “I’m afraid you’re too late – office is closed.”  
I frown at her. “Wait… who are you? Are you the detective?”  
“Me? No, I’m Nick’s secretary.” She scratches her hair with a pen and then tosses it down on one of the desks. “I handle his appointments, his papers… that sort of thing. Well, I used to do that sort of thing anyway, but now Nick’s disappeared and I can’t keep a detective agency open without a detective.”  
Here comes Mr. Hero again.  
“Don’t worry, I can help. Tell me what happened,” I say quickly, leaning against the edge of the desk.  
She bites her lip. “Nick was… working a case. Skinny Malone’s gang had kidnapped a young woman, and he tracked them down to their hideout in Park Street Station. There’s an old vault down there that they use as a base.”  
Just the mention of the word “vault” makes me want to throw up. I force back the memories.  
She continues adamantly, “I told Nick he was walking into a trap, but he just smiled and walked out the door like he always does.”  
“I’ll find him,” I tell her. “You have my word.”  
The woman brightens up instantly, seemingly surprised that I was being serious. “Thank you,” she says gratefully. “He should be easy to spot – he’s always wearing that old hat and trench coat getup.” She laughs anxiously. “Please, hurry.”  
I nod and quickly search the location “Park Street Station” on my Pip-Boy. It pings up with a match. Time to go find the man who can find my son.  
But first, a small detour.

\- - -

Diamond City is well-stocked with merchants of all kinds. I buy some more stimpacks and RadAway off the doctor, get my beard shaved and my hair cut by the local hairdresser, upgrade on ammunition, and then rent a room in Dugout Inn. It’s pretty dingy and small, and the mattress looks like someone died on it, but it’s good enough to sleep in. Once I’ve finished cleaning myself up I feel a thousand times better. My nose is still bruised, and I have small scratches on my face from chips of concrete that bullets sent flying into my face, but despite these injuries I’m certain I look much better than I did before. I bought some more armour as well as ammunition, and I put it on now, replacing the leather with more resistant metal plates which will protect me against projectiles.  
Once I’m done, I place a new clip of ammo into my 10mm pistol and holster it at my hip. I’m about as ready as I’ll ever be. “Come on,” I say to Dogmeat. “Just one more thing to do.”  
The sky is darkening as I leave Dugout Inn and head to Publick Occurences, where I assume Piper lives as well as works. Before we set off, I just want to make sure I keep my word. As I approach the door, Piper’s little sister nods at me to say I can enter. I return a nod in affirmation and then pull the handle and let myself in.  
This interior is better lit than Valentine’s office, and much warmer and cosier. There’s a lot of furniture and cluttered objects, a red couch against one wall, some wooden stairs leading up to a small second floor, and an area beneath the stairs with a sleeping bag and some toys set up – I can only assume that’s where Piper’s little sister sleeps. As I enter, I see Piper’s busy tinkering with her printing press, tightening the wheel. She hasn’t even noticed me come in. There’s something in that which reminds me so much of Nora when she used to be really into something – I remember her ignoring me, so deep in her head that it almost felt like she’d forgotten I existed. But she never did. I was Nate, and she was Nora, and we existed together.  
I shake my head to jar the memory and stride towards Piper; she hears me and climbs to her feet, placing a spanner on top of the press as she turns to me with a smile. “Glad you dropped by.” She searches my newly clean face, curious. “You holding up, Blue?”  
“Why… are you calling me that?”  
“Cause of the blue jumpsuit you’re wearing,” she says, as if it’s obvious. “You’re a vault dweller.”  
I open my mouth to speak, surprised, but she interrupts me, leaning against her printing press: “So, here’s the deal – I want an interview. Your life story in print. I think it’s time Diamond City had a little outside perspective on the Commonwealth.”  
Again, I try to speak, but she cuts me off. “You do that, and err… tell you what, I’ll come with you. Watch your back while you get used to the world above ground.”  
I gaze at her for a while, taken aback. I hadn’t expected her to make a deal with me; I’d been drawn here simply because I wanted someone to hear my story before I ended up dead somewhere in the Commonwealth. But having her coming with me and shooting up bad guys and monsters? It actually… well, it sounds okay. Dogmeat has been a dream as far as traveling companions go, but I can’t talk to him like I would with a human being. He can’t protect me like a person with a gun could. I think traveling with someone else more like me would be easier.  
“All right, Piper,” I say finally, grateful for the deal. “I’m in.”  
She perks up, straightening. “Good! Let’s get down to business.” She walks over to the couch and sits back, patting the seat beside her. I sit carefully, feeling like I’m about to be barraged with questions.  
“So,” she says. “I know you’re from a vault. How would you describe your time on the inside?”  
I can tell these are questions that personally interest her, and I try to answer honestly, even though it hurts to think about what happened. I swallow, staring at one corner of the room. “My family and I were frozen, so we didn’t spend much time in the vault.”  
Piper widens her eyes in surprise, catching on. “Wait, so… they kept you locked up in a fridge? The whole time? Are you saying you were alive before the war?”  
“Behold,” I joke. “I am immortal.”  
Piper cocks her head, even more intrigued than before. “You know, I guess you kind of are, aren’t you?” She laughs in amazement. “Oh my God – ‘The Man Out Of Time.’”  
I smile.  
She quickly gets back to business. “So, you’ve seen the Commonwealth, Diamond City. How does it compare to your old life?”  
How does it compare? Well, it doesn’t. I lived in a world where I still had my family, my house, my white picket fences. Where monsters didn’t exist and I didn’t suck up rads everywhere I went. I lived in a world where we used actual money to buy things instead of Nuka Cola bottlecaps. But… somehow, saying that to Piper seems like it would be offensive. All she’s ever known is this world – how would she know any different?  
I decide to avoid the question. “I’ve been having too much fun blowing things up to think about it,” I say.  
She rolls her eyes. “Gotta make my job hard for me, huh? All right. If that’s the quote, that’s the quote. Now, I already know you’re looking for your son, Shaun. Do you expect the Institute was involved in his kidnapping?”  
I stare at her, uncomprehending. “The Institute?” I ask. “Who’re they?”  
Piper sighs. “That, Blue, is the biggest mystery in the Commonwealth. No one knows who or where they are, but their handiwork is all over: synths – synthetic people – sent from their hidden labs to do the Institute’s dirty work. Sometimes they even replace a person with a synth double; a little covert agent no one would suspect. Now… not everything that goes wrong has the Institute behind it, but there’s always a chance. That’s why I’m asking.”  
“I don’t know,” I mutter. I’ve never trusted robots; if they’ve stolen my son, I honestly wouldn’t be all that surprised.  
“No one ever does. That’s what makes them so scary,” she replies. Again, she moves swiftly on: “For the last part of the interview, I’d like to do something different: I want you to make a statement to Diamond City directly. The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the Commonwealth. Everyone just wants to pretend it doesn’t happen. What would you say to someone who’s lost a loved one but might be too scared or too numb to the world to look for them?”  
I think hard. What would I say to myself, honestly? What would make the difference? “No matter how much you wanna give up,” I say truthfully. “Don’t. You have to have hope that you’ll see them again. Or, at least, that you’ll know the truth.”  
Piper, looking fulfilled, says, “A good note to end on, Blue. Thanks – that’s everything!” She places the pad she was writing on beside her on the arm of the couch, sitting forwards. “It’s gonna take some time to put this all together, but I think your story’s gonna give Diamond City a lot to think about.” Her eyes brighten. “Anyway, I agreed to come with you, right? Watch your back? Just say the word when you’re ready – I can’t wait to see what story comes next.”  
“Tonight?” I suggest without pause.  
Piper looks a little surprised at my sudden request, and I push forwards to explain: “Before I came here for the interview, I went to see Nick Valentine… but he’s gone; hasn’t returned from his latest case. I told his assistant I’d find him, but I don’t know if I can do it alone.”  
“Oh, Nick,” she says, her eyes widening. “Well, if you really want to me to come, I’m in. Nick’s a good friend and an even better detective – if he’s gone, Diamond City really is doomed.”  
“Perfect,” I say with a nod. “I was going to leave straight away, but… we’ll meet at the entrance in an hour.”  
“No problem,” she replies quickly, as if she’s been through this many times. She probably has, to be honest, considering that I first met her outside of Diamond City. Piper may seem all cute and inquisitive, but she definitely knows how to take care of herself. I say goodbye to her, and then leave her homestead, heading off to find Dogmeat and break the news.


	7. Damsel In Distress

Piper’s as good as her word. She meets me at the top of the stairs only five minutes late, carrying nothing but a gun, some ammunition, and bubble-gum. This strikes me as a little weird, but I don’t ask. She’s still wearing the same red trench coat and press cap as she was earlier, apparently confident enough to go traipsing around in the Commonwealth without armor.  
“So,” I say meaningfully. “Are you sure you wanna travel with me?”  
Piper shrugs. “Well, it’s that or go back to writing the paper. I guess the paper could wait.” She pauses, looking around. “Where’s that dog?”  
“I left Dogmeat at the Dugout Inn,” I say. “Probably best that we travel as two instead of three.”  
“Oh.”  
“What about your sister?” I ask her.  
“Oh, Nat?” She shrugs again. “She has people to look after her, and she knows what to do if she’s in trouble, or if I don’t come back.”  
I don’t want to imagine that little girl being sister-less. I want Piper to return alive. I guess I should do what I can to make that happen.  
“Let’s go,” I say.

\- - -

We leave Diamond City behind us, entering the hostile city once more. Piper shivers – it’s dark, and the square is lit with spotlights. “You all right?” I ask her, concerned.  
“Me? Pfft, yeah.” She begins walking. “Let’s go.”  
I check my Pip-Boy once more to ensure I know where I’m going and then follow her, wanting to get to Park Street Station as fast as possible. We start off at a jog, aware that dawdling out here in the darkness could result in our deaths. Piper keeps up pretty easily, which tells me she’s spent a lot of time running away from things, like me.  
We find our path more or less clear at first, and then… well, we run into a few mangy feral mongrels which intercept us in an alley.  
The first one jumps at me from the side, and I hit the ground rolling with it on top of me, too shocked to react quickly and protect myself. I instinctively kick it hard to get it off, dodging its rabid jaws, and then stumble out of the way while Piper lets off a few short controlled bursts with her gun. She surprises me with her good accuracy – two of them die, leaving the third to me. I kick at it as it comes close and then shoot it rapidly in the face, its brains exploding out of the back of its head. Piper nods in appreciation as I holster my gun once more, dusting myself off. “You really held your own there, Blue.”  
“I try my best,” I reply with a tight smile. We begin walking again, shaking off the shock.  
Piper, eternally curious, asks, “So, what were you? Before the war, I mean. You were a soldier, weren’t you?”  
“How did you guess?” I smile at her in surprise. She’s certainly not stupid, that’s for sure.  
“Well… it isn’t like many people had to learn to shoot back then, right?” In the darkness, I can only see the outlines of her features and the faint red of her clothes.  
I nod. “Yeah, I was a soldier,” I confirm. “An ex-soldier when the war began. But I’ve still got the skills down, I guess.”  
Piper smiles at that. “I noticed.”  
We walk a few more paces without exchanging any words, and then she says: “What was it like before the war?”  
“Not like this,” I say. “Very not like this.”  
“Wow, Blue,” she mutters sarcastically.  
“No, I mean…” I gaze at the buildings around us, lit up by the glow of my Pip-Boy. “If you imagine these buildings as whole and shining, take away all the monsters and mutated animals, put cars back on the streets and people back in their houses… you’d see roughly what the world was like before.”  
I must be speaking with wistfulness in my voice, because she mutters quietly, “Sorry – it must be hard coming from that to this. I can’t even imagine.”  
“Well,” I say. “Like I said before – I’ve been spending too much time blowing things up to notice.”  
She chuckles at that, and so do I. It’s nice being able to talk to someone and not think too much about where I came from, what happened before. She has a very charismatic way of conversing that makes me feel comfortable and safe – I suppose it’s the skilled reporter in her.

\- - -

We arrive at Park Street Station after hours of alternating jogging and walking. It’s about midnight now, and the city is frighteningly quiet. We’ve entered at Boston common and are walking toward the swan pond in the centre, and I feel like I’m being watched from all sides. Every sound has me tense and alert. Piper is especially antsy, much jumpier than she was earlier, spinning whenever she thinks she hears footsteps. She stops suddenly as I’m about to step onto the grass, looking pained. “We should probably go around,” she says determinedly.  
“Why?” I stop too, staring back at her. The lonely caw of a crow makes us flinch, and we both glance around us nervously.  
“It’s Boston common,” she mutters, slanting a look my way. “Not many people get out alive.”  
I wonder if she’s exaggerating, or if she’s actually telling the truth. Giving in, I shrug and step back onto the path; we circle the park to get to the station entrance. I suppose listening to the native will always pay off.  
Before we enter, I do a full check of all my weapons and armour – I typed them into my Pip-Boy earlier today, and it’ll now be tuned into the ammo and aid I’ve got left. Piper simply pops some bubble-gum into her mouth and lifts her press cap to run a hand through her dark hair. I stare at her, surprised by how laid-back she is in the face of possible death. Perhaps it’s just me, but no one seems to be afraid of death anymore. Catching sight of my raised eyebrow, she hands me some bubble-gum and says, “Here. This is has literally saved my life.”  
I take the bubble-gum, shrugging, but put it into my pocket instead of eating it. “So,” I begin. “Before we go in, I just want to establish a few ground rules-”  
“Once we’re in there, we’re no longer friends – we’re comrades. I do what you say, sir.”  
I raise an eyebrow at her mock salute. “Actually, I wasn’t going to-”  
“Relax, Blue. I was kidding.” Piper straightens her coat and says, “But I will do whatever you tell me, however crazy it sounds. I know where I stand.”  
“Right. Thanks.” I raise my gun and gesture into the subway station. “Let’s go, then.”  
We head down the stairs into the station, Piper just a little behind me with her gun raised. Once I open the door, I can already hear voices in the room below us, just down the escalators. They’re husky voices, accented with the familiar mafia gangster tone I’ve heard in the movies. I crouch, and Piper follows me, both of us carefully descending the steps so we can pause behind the doorway and listen.  
“I’m telling ya,” one man is saying. “Joining Skinny Malone’s crew was the best idea we ever had. Look at this place!”  
“I still say Malone’s weak,” another replies. “Caught that detective snoopin’ around, and what’s he do? Locks ‘im up. Like he ain’t got the balls to just kill him.”  
A third man chuckles. “Well don’t let his new girl hear that. She’ll start swinging that bat at your face till there ain’t no face left.”  
So, three things I’ve learned in one sitting: one, these people work for Skinny Malone; two, Nick Valentine did come here after all; and three, he’s still alive. I glance back at Piper, and she shrugs – it’s up to me what happens next. I peer further round the doorway just as a man comes around the wall opposite, seeing me instantly. “Huh?” He raises his gun.  
“He’s here for the detective!” another shouts, also seeing me. “Ice him!”  
I inhale slowly, press the trigger, and watch as the first guy’s head explodes and he collapses to the floor. It’s too late, though, because his friends already know I’m here.  
I spin, shooting at a man in the ticket booth, and Piper jogs past me to duck behind a pillar. She finally gets in a shot that slips past the wall and hits him in the chest – he dies with an ugly wail. One of the remaining three tactically runs up behind her, and I fire two rapid shots into his chest before he can kill Piper, watching his blood spray the crates behind him. Ducking instinctively, Piper stumbles out of the way and dodges behind another pillar, narrowly missing getting hit by a few stray bullets. I curse and follow her, feeling a bullet streak so close to my arm that it sears my skin. I grab her once I reach her, pulling her down as a man with a machinegun fires wildly in our direction. I’m certain one of the bullets hits me – my hip is stinging between the armor plates, the pain slowly growing. Desperately, I shoot back – the second man who was standing behind him gets hit in the stomach and goes down wailing. Piper, finally having recovered, shoots rather expertly at the guy with the machine gun and he goes down too, his blood spraying the machines. One to go.  
I keep on crouching while I jog for more cover; Piper runs in the opposite direction, distracting the last man for now as he shoots incessantly at her – I hear a muffled yelp as she dives over the wall into the ticket booth, taking cover.  
I jog around from behind and silence the asshole with a shot to the head and back. He tries to turn and stab me before he dies, but I punch him in the throat and disarm him, twisting the switchblade expertly in my grip.  
Once surveying the room to make sure they’re all dead, I eject the clip in my gun and reload, glad to have avoided an absolute disaster. I hear Piper muttering to herself and quickly jog through the door into the ticket booth. She’s still on the floor, clutching her leg, her face a little pale from the pain. A bullet must have hit her as she dove for cover. “Oh,” I say. I kneel down beside her and pull out a stimpack, and she protests, “It only clipped me, I think. I’ll be fine.”  
I ignore her objections, injecting her in the thigh. “Thanks, Blue,” she sighs, leaning her head back as the stimpack begins to take effect. She did surprisingly well – well enough that she could have been a soldier herself. Still… there were times there where I was sure she was going to be shot, and I had to put myself in danger to protect her.  
“You still sure you wanna travel with me?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.  
She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Blue. I’ve had worse than this, believe me.”  
“Okay,” I say. “Don’t get up yet – let it heal. I’m just gonna search for a better weapon.”  
The triggermen have nothing of use except the submachine gun and some ammunition for it. I search the rest of the room for supplies, almost getting blown up by a fragmentation grenade in the bathroom, then enter the ticket stall again. Piper’s healed enough that she’s stood up, and she’s hopping around checking the shelves for supplies. “Bottlecaps,” she says simply, pointing.  
“Good find,” I reply, grabbing the stash from under the till. There’s a door in the back, locked.  
Not for long.  
I jimmy with the door, twisting my bobby pin far to the right, and the lock clicks back with a satisfying sound. Piper, sounding impressed, says, “You’re pretty hefty with a bobby pin.”  
“I like a good challenge,” I retort gamely.  
Inside the room I find another stash of caps, some purified water, and a bottle of whisky.  
I walk back out to where Piper’s checking the wound in her calf, testing her weight on it, and hand her the bottle. “Here,” I say. “Have some of this.”  
“I don’t drink,” she replies automatically.  
“It’ll help against the pain,” I tell her honestly. “I’m not trying to get you drunk.”  
Piper thinks for a second, searching my face, and then takes the bottle. After taking a few swigs, she hands it back to me, and I drink considerably more than she did, favoring the warm sensation of it sinking down my throat. “Let’s keep going,” I say, tossing the bottle onto the counter. “Tell me if you need to stop, okay?”  
“I won’t,” she says stubbornly. She grabs her gun off the floor, I raise my new machine gun, and we head off down further into the station.  
Once we’re halfway down the stairs I can hear voices again, where the tracks are. I step on a rather misplaced weighing scale and realize my mistake too late when I hear the rapid beeping of a bomb. “Get back!” I shout, grabbing Piper around the waist and jumping as far as I can up the stairs. The explosion leaves me with my ears ringing, the wave of heat passing over us. Piper coughs in the smoke and then groans, rubbing her elbow. “Good job,” she mutters, pushing me off her. “I guess they know we’re here now.”  
“No biggie,” I tell her with a not-so-convincing smile.  
“Yeah, right,” she says as I help her to her feet again. I don’t think the blast helped with her leg – she’s limping again, and has to lean most of her weight against me. I make a split-second decision, already hearing the voices coming closer. “Look, you stay here – I’ll wipe them out and come back to get you.”  
“Or you’ll just keep going without me,” she counters.  
“I won’t, okay?” But I get why she doesn’t trust me; she doesn’t really know me, after all. I set her down again by the wall. “Just want to get you back to your sister, at least.”  
“You’re really making me feel inadequate here,” she complains. “I can hold my own, okay?”  
“Believe me, I know,” I say. “But if you keep going on that leg before it’s fully healed, you’ll be dead. And I’d like to avoid that.”  
She sighs, wiping dust from her face. “Fine. Go.”  
I raise my gun and go running back down the stairs. One of the men is waiting around the corner, and I twist the switchblade in my hand, ramming it hard into his neck. He falls all the way down the stairs to land at the feet of his comrades, and I duck behind a wall for cover as they all open fire at the same time. Pieces of tile and plaster go spraying everywhere, and I throw a hand up to cover my face. My heart beats hard and fast in my chest as they all stop to reload and I spring back around the wall, this time opening fire at them. The submachine gun sprays bullets all over the platform below, and I watch two of the triggermen collapse – another one jerks back as three bullets strike him in the arm and neck, while his remaining friends manage to dive for cover. I duck back behind the wall to reload, but find that there’s no ammunition left. Goddamn these stupid ammo-eating guns.  
“Blue!” I hear.  
I glance back up the stairs to where I left Piper right next to the ticketing machines, and she throws something small and round through the air at me. I flinch, having to fight my instincts to dive for cover, and catch it in midair. A fragmentation grenade. I meet her eyes, nodding, and then flatten myself against the wall as bullets spray dangerously close to my shoulder. Carefully, I pull the pin out of the grenade, careful to keep my hand on the spoon; the pin may unlock the mechanism, but it’s the spoon that releases it and allows it to blow. Under my breath, I slowly count to five, closing my eyes for a short moment.  
Just in time, the bullets stop, and I hear swearing below as the remaining triggermen also run out of ammo. I open my eyes.  
Lightning-fast, I spin back into sight and hurl the fragmentation grenade at them with all my might. I have no idea where the anger came from, only that it originates from some indepletable source inside me. The grenade strikes the ground and rolls, hitting an overturned nuka-cola machine, and I duck back behind the wall as it explodes – smoke billows up the stairwell and blows grit into my eyes, and my ears are left ringing.  
I wait there for a long moment, my back against the tiles, anticipating for the ringing to fade away. There are no more sounds below, nothing except creaking and the dripping of water.  
“Blue? You okay?” Piper coughs. She’s walked down the stairs towards me, and she’s got even more dust streaked on her face from the explosion – so have I, I’m sure. I accept her hand and she helps me up; we both lean against opposite walls, catching our breath, and listen out for sounds down below. It seems all the triggermen are dead. “Let’s keep going,” I say after a moment, gathering my wits and rubbing a hand over my face.  
We descend the stairs carefully; I grab .45 ammo off the first few bodies I see, glancing around me. The space is lit with naked light bulbs, the tracks empty and clogged with rubbish. There haven’t been trains running through here for centuries.  
I search the rest of the bodies, collecting more ammunition and food items. There’s alcohol galore in the rooms that branch off from the platform, and I make sure to sip from every one of the bottles, enjoying the warm buzzing sensation as it begins to take effect. Drinking on the job is perhaps the stupidest thing I’ve ever done; before the bombs, I’d never be so irresponsible. But Vault 111 broke me. I really do feel like I need something to numb the pain.  
I catch Piper giving me odd looks as I take numerous swigs of whiskey, bourbon and wine, but she doesn’t protest. “Huh,” she says, as I discard a bourbon bottle and reach for some wine. “Thought that stuff was made for polishing chrome.”  
We make our way slowly through the only unblocked tunnels. While I’d thought we had completely defeated our enemy before, it seems I was wrong. There are more triggermen up ahead; I can hear their raspy voices, and I can see their shadows flickering. How many are left?  
I find some Nuka Cola Quantum in the hand of a skeleton, tucking it into the bag I brought. I also find more imperishables and purified water.  
We’re getting closer to the enemies up ahead.  
I don’t bother to crouch this time, intending to use the element of surprise rather than sneaking. I bring my submachine gun up to eyelevel and aim it at the first man I can see. Inhaling slowly, I press the trigger. The submachine gun may not be accurate, but it makes up for this with a faster fire rate.  
A short rapid burst of bullets hits him in the back, and he goes down without a sound. Alerted, his friends shout and turn to look for me – I’m running towards them like a madman, a little sluggish due to the alcohol, and I feel one of their bullets nick my thigh. Piper covers me, killing the man who shot me, and I leap at the last survivor, tackling him to the ground. I smash his face brutally with the butt of my gun, twice, and then stand up.  
My thigh is aching, and I can feel the warmth of blood on my hip where I was shot earlier. Piper walks over, apparently fully healed now, and eyes the corpse critically. “Well, we showed them,” she says.  
“Yeah,” I reply breathlessly. I turn, seeing the vault door with a cold nostalgia, and Piper seems to sense my uneasiness. She also notices how much I’m bleeding. “Jesus, Blue, would you stimpack yourself already?”  
I glance down at myself, seeing the blood soaking just one side of my suit, and then shrug. The pain, although overwhelming, is perhaps the only thing keeping me sane right now. If I’m about to enter another vault, I want to do it numb. Those are my terms.  
“Can’t risk wasting one,” I say, shaking my head. “They’re only flesh wounds – I can fix them up once we’re out of here.”  
“At least try to stop the bleeding,” she implores, wincing at the blood.  
I place my gun on the ground and rip a long piece of fabric off the dead man’s shirt, using it to tie up the wound on my thigh. Nothing I can do about my hip, however.  
Once finished, I straighten up and head towards the vault door. “Valentine’s waiting.”  
I don’t waste much time after I’ve activated the door and opened it. As it rolls aside, I jump onto the platform before it’s arrived and run into the entrance chamber of the vault.  
“Hey, who is that? God, I hate it when they open the door.” I hear footsteps as someone enters the room from a side-door. I duck behind a pillar, feet away from him.  
“Skinny? Darla?”  
I pop out from round the pillar and fire off a few rounds in his direction. He tries to shoot back, but three of my bullets hit him and he never gets the chance. “Hey!” Another man, holding a baseball bat, charges at me through the doorway; he’s another ghoul dressed in a bowler hat and suspenders. I whack him with my gun and then shoot him in the head.  
As I straighten up, Piper glances around us with unbridled curiosity. I can see her inner reporter taking everything in, questioning each detail. “They must’ve made a fortune on these places, selling people a chance for a future,” she says. I can tell she disapproves, and it makes me feel considerably better about being in this damn place.  
“They did,” I mutter in reply, switching the submachine gun for another trusty 10mm pistol. “Come on – we have to get deeper into the vault.”  
We head through the room those men came from and pass through a door. “Careful,” I say, glancing around.  
No one.  
We creep down the stairs into another room. Again: nothing. And then, as I’m checking through the toolbox for useful supplies, I hear voices in the corridor branching off from this room.  
Jackpot.  
I tilt my head at Piper, warning her to stay hidden, and then peek around the wall. There’s only two triggermen, oblivious to the fact Piper and I have killed all their friends. They’re standing in the middle of the corridor with their weapons holstered, so laid back that it should be piss-easy to take them out from where I am. I aim at the first man, going through the motions in my mind as I imagine shooting him twice in the back and then shooting his friend in the arm before he can reach for his weapon. From then, it’ll just take me walking up and shooting him in the head to finish it off.  
I blink, and then watch it carry out in reality: I shoot the first man twice in the back, and he screeches in pain – as his friend jumps and reaches for his gun, I hit him point black in the arm and the impact sends him falling backwards. I walk towards him, kicking away his pistol before he can try to reach for it again, and shoot him in the face. Piper walks up behind me, bemused that I hadn’t needed her at all. “Pretty damn smooth, Blue,” she says appreciatively.  
“I’m starting to get the hang of it again,” I tell her honestly. We search their bodies together, coming up with more ammunition for both of us and a ready-made Molotov cocktail. I hook it to my belt, pleased to have something resembling a bomb. Piper also scavenges a stimpack and a potato – the potato she throws to the side carelessly, but she tucks the stimpack into her trench coat. She glances at me, all of a sudden thoughtful, and then crouches down and begins unbuttoning one of the men’s shirts. “Whoa – hey!” I say, stepping back. “I get they kidnapped your friend, but let’s not go too far…”  
Piper rolls her eyes at me as she pulls the jacket and the shirt off the dead man’s torso and hands them to me. “Spoils of war,” she says. “I think you need to finally change out of that bullet-riddled vault suit.”  
“And get into another bullet-riddled suit?” I counter. “Besides, I think the vault suit looks good on me…”  
“Yeah, sure,” Piper says sardonically. “Fits like a second skin.”  
“Fine.” I take the shirt and jacket from her in a huff and then wave her out of the way. “But let me take his pants off – allow him at least an ounce of respect.”

\- - -

It’s actually very relieving to be rid of that vault suit. It was a memory I’d been carrying with me which I didn’t necessarily want. Now I’m all decked out in worn Chino pants, a white shirt and tie, and a fancy pinstriped jacket over the top that one might wear to a casino. “I look like a gangster,” I mutter to Piper, setting her giggling.  
I buckle my metal armor over the clothing and then lift my gun. We continue down to the end of the corridor, peering through the doorway. We’ve reached a big open room filled with grated walkways and spotlights. There will be many more enemies in here. “Okay,” I whisper, turning to Piper. “I’m going to throw the Molotov cocktail and then run. You shoot whoever you see.”  
She nods in affirmation, and I unhook the homemade bomb from my belt. I hand it out to Piper, and she uses her own lighter to set fire to the end of the rag. Bon Voyage, I think to myself.  
I pull my arm back as far as it can go and then hurl the Molotov cocktail out onto the platform. It bounces once, the flame spluttering, and then the gasoline inside the bottle reaches the fire and it explodes in a fiery ball of orange – the man nearest to it falls over the edge of the railing with a scream. One down.  
I jog out from cover, instantly hailed by dozens of bullets, and throw my arms over my head as I dive to the ground behind a bunch of pipes. There’s one man below me: I shoot at him wildly, but in the end it’s Piper who kills him – he can’t yet see her. Now that she’s announced her presence, however, the men seem to forget about me and begin firing straight at her instead; she returns generously, but I have no idea how well she’s faring in terms of injuries. There’s three men left, one with a baseball bat. I climb back onto my feet and then dodge around the pillar, shooting the first man I see in the head, nice and clean. The next I punch in the nose with my gun – the impact sends the bone shattering upwards into his brain. As the man with the baseball bat comes at me, I raise my gun to shoot him; however, it simply clicks, the chamber empty. I’m out of ammo.  
“Shit!” I snap, twisting as he brings his bat down to hit me. It lands on my shoulder so hard that I feel like the bone has been dislocated. With a strangled yell, I use both hands to grab the bat before he can pull it back and yank him towards me. He stumbles, and I head-butt him hard in the face, sending him reeling back. When he falls, I step on his neck with the heel of my boot, crushing his windpipe, and he chokes for air for several seconds before he turns blue and passes out. It was a brutal and up-close way to kill a man, but he asked for it.  
Piper jogs down the walkway towards me, breathing heavily. “Well, that was easier than expected,” she says.  
“Did you get hit?”  
“No.” She pokes at a hole in the sleeve of her red coat. “But I almost did. You?”  
“Got hit the shoulder with a baseball bat,” I say, rolling my arm and wincing at the pain.  
Piper cringes, like she’s had personal experience in such agony. “You okay to keep moving?”  
“Yep.”  
After defeating several more triggerman assholes who were hiding in the next section of the vault, we find that there’s no way to go but down. The grates in the floor have been removed, showing us a room below. Piper and I help each other down, using a maintenance ladder. Once we’re down, I finally eat that bubble-gum Piper gave me, savouring the fruity flavour. She raises an eyebrow at me as if to say, I told you so.  
Somehow, it gives me a burst of energy, and I find that I no longer want to just collapse.  
“I hope we’re close,” I say, as we hesitantly pass through another short hallway and find ourselves at another door.  
“Me too.”  
I pull the lever, and the door slides open ahead of me; I peek inside the room, and it’s empty save from several lockers, a desk and some stacks of papers. Piper and I pass through without a second glance, already hearing sounds somewhere in a room nearby. There’s another corridor leading off from this room, and we walk down with gaining confidence until we come to another door. Once I’ve opened it, we recognize the source of the noise: it’s another one of those triggermen, standing one floor up and wheedling at someone through the window of a cell.  
“How ya doin’, Valentine?” he asks. “Feelin’ hungry?” I glance back over my shoulder at Piper, and she widens her eyes. It seems we’ve finally actually found him.  
“Keep talkin’, meathead,” a voice replies, muffled through the glass. “It gives Skinny Malone more time to think about how he’s gonna butt you off!”  
Piper and I set off towards the stairs to the left as slowly as possible, listening to their conversation intently.  
“Don’t give me that crap, Valentine,” the man replies irritably. “You got nothin’, you know nothin’.”  
“Really?” Valentine replies jubilantly. “Saw him writing your name down in that black book of his – ‘lousy, cheatin’ cardshark’ I think were his exact words. Then he struck the name across three times.”  
The man seems shifty all of a sudden. By now Piper and I have reached the top of the stairs, and a wall is blocking our view. “You serious?” he asks uncertainly. “The black book? But I never – oh, I-I gotta get this over fast.”  
He turns and begins to walk towards the stairs – his whole demeanour changes when he sees us crouching on the top step. “Hey!”  
He raises his gun just as Piper and I begin shooting in unison; my submachine gun bullets rip through his flimsy suit, and he jerks in middair. Piper fires two accurate killing shots at his face, and he falls back with his brains splattering the ground behind him. “Good one,” I say to her. She just nods, and we both rush over to the window.  
Through the dirty glass I can see a man in an old hat and trench coat, just like Ellie described him. The room is unlit save for one bulb which illuminates him from above like a spotlight; his features are in darkness, and all I can see of his face are two shining orbs for eyes. Something about this causes a tingling in my spine, but I don’t look too much into it. “Hey, you!” Valentine shouts. “I don’t know who you are, but we’ve got three minutes before they realize Muscles-For-Brains ain’t coming back! Get this door open!”  
I nod, pleased to finally have an objective that’s less obscure. Valentine: found. Now all I have to do is get him out of his makeshift cell. I spot a terminal next to the door, and boot it up, wiggling my fingers over the keys. Piper follows me, watching over my shoulder. Like the terminal in the Museum of Freedom, this one only requires a four letter password. It could be anything. I scroll through all the random keywords and test the first one: SENT.  
Three similarities.  
Which means this next bit should be easy. I look quickly through the rest of the words until I see three similar letters and then click: SEAT.  
With a ding and some whirring, the terminal logs me in; I feel Piper shift at my shoulder. “You really aren’t short of surprises, huh?” she mutters, amused. “You’re a lock-picking, hacking, sharpshooting ex-army veteran.”  
Pleased with her approval, I say, “Don’t forget extremely dashing.”  
“Yeah,” she says dryly.  
On the terminal, I quickly select the option to unlock and open the door, and then log out again. As the door opens, Detective Valentine turns towards us and I finally see his face for the first time: his skin is ash-grey with the visible consistency of paper, in some places frayed away like human skin should not be: through these holes in his face I can see wires and mechanics whirring away. And his eyes, which shone before like cat’s eyes in the darkness, are an inhuman glowing yellow.  
I’m looking at a synth.  
He lights a cigarette as I come in, seemingly at odds with the imminent danger we may be in. “Ah, my knight in shining armour,” he says. His eyes land on Piper, and they seem to brighten significantly. “And Piper. Not surprised to see you getting yourself into trouble.”  
“Likewise,” she replies with a grin. “You holdin’ up, Nick?”  
“Never been better.” He turns back to me, drawing on his cigarette. I’m fascinated by the way the cogs turn in his jaw as he opens and closes it. “Question is, why does your new friend come all this way – risk life and limb – for an old private eye?”  
“What-what are you?” I stammer, still caught a little off guard. I see Piper shooting me a rather unhappy look, as if she’s disappointed I had to ask such a question.  
“Told ya, I’m a detective.” He drops his cigarette, not even burned halfway, and continues, “Look, I know the skin and metal ain’t comforting, but it’s not important right now.”  
“Sorry,” I say, trying to remember my manners. “My son, Shaun, is missing. He was kidnapped. But I don’t know who took him or where they went.”  
“And Diamond City Security sure aren’t gonna do anything about it,” Piper adds irritably.  
“Missing kid, huh?” Valentine looks thoughtful. “Well, you came to the right man but not the right place. I’ve been cooped up in here for weeks. Turns out the missing daughter I’d come here to find wasn’t kidnapped – she’s Skinny Malone’s new flame, and she’s got a mean streak.” He steps on the smouldering cigarette at his feet. “Anyway, you got troubles and I’ll do what I can to help. But now isn’t the time. Let’s blow this joint – then we’ll talk.”  
He walks quickly past me, and Piper and I follow with haste. He seems to know where he’s going, unlike us. 

\- - -

With Valentine as an addition to our team, we manage to make our way back to the entrance in record time, with only a few triggerman assholes intercepting us along the way. Once we get to the door of Park Street Station, Valentine says, “Skinny Malone and his goons are probably waiting for us on the other side of this door. Don’t let his name fool you – it’s ironic, I know.”  
“What?”  
Valentine shrugs, fiddling with the lock on the door using his mechanical hand. “You’ll see what I mean.”  
The door slides open, and I nearly flinch at the sight of probably all the remaining mafia minions, a man in much cleaner suit (who, despite being overweight, I realize must be Skinny Malone), and a woman in an evening dress. “Nicky!” the suited man exclaims. “What’re you doin’? You come into my house, shoot up my guys – you have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?”  
Valentine steps into the room, calm and calculated, and Piper and I follow him tentatively. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your two-timing game, Skinny.” He gestures to the woman in the dress. “Gotta tell her to write home more often.”  
The woman’s face draws into a sneer. “Aww, poor little Valentine. Ashamed you got beat up by a girl? I’ll just run back home to daddy, shall I?”  
Skinny Malone raises his gun, face set like stone. “Shoulda left it alone, Nicky. In this vault, I’m King of the castle, you hear me? And I ain’t gonna let some private dick shut it down now that I finally got a good thing goin’.”  
“I told you we should’ve just killed him!” the woman screeched. I note that she’s holding a baseball bat in her hand, and immediately make the decision not to spare her life when the inevitable battle ensues. “But then you had to get all sentimental. All that stupid crap about the old times.”  
“Darla, I’m handling this!” Malone snaps back at her. “Skinny Malone’s always got things under control.”  
“Oh yeah?” Darla points at me and Piper. “What’re they doing here then, huh? Valentine’s brought ‘em to run us out!”  
“Darla,” I say calmly. “You can still go back to your family. You don’t need to be here, or be part of this.”  
“Don’t you try to confuse me!” she shouts. “Get ‘em, Skinny!”  
Automatically, I dive out of the way as all of Malone’s men open fire at once. Valentine grabs Piper and pulls her behind a stack of shelves. I duck into a room, and spin to defend myself just as Darla runs in with her baseball bat. I shoot her twice in the face, and she goes down in front of me – stupid woman, running into a fight with an armed enemy wearing only a sequinned evening dress. Or just crazy. Swearing to myself, I pick up her bat and toss it to the side. There was a time where I would never have considered killing a woman, but that time has long gone.  
As I duck around the doorway to provide Valentine with cover, I am hailed with bullets – one hits me in my shooting arm, another skims my neck, and a third buries itself in my torso. I hiss with pain, stumbling back into cover – my vision is blurry, and darkness is clouding the edges of my vision. If I get one more bullet in me, I’ll be dead.  
I press a hand to the side of my neck, feeling it leaking with warm blood – the shot must have missed my jugular, but there are still plenty of veins and capillaries in my neck for me to end up losing bountiful amounts of blood.  
Gasping for breath and struggling to remain conscious, I summon the rest of my energy and duck around the wall again – there are only two men left, one of them Skinny Malone. I fire wildly at the remaining triggerman, and he’s hit unawares in the shoulder and chest. I duck back behind the wall, struggling against the overwhelming pain all over my body. My own gasping sounds terribly distant. As I try to reload my pistol, my fingers are shaking – I drop the new cartridge and have to fall to my knees to get it – the bullet wound in my thigh flares with agony, and I grunt as my vision turns black for a second and then returns. I give up on scraping at the floor for the cartridge, seeing double of my hand. Groaning, I use the wall to pull myself to my feet, feeling warm all over.  
Skinny Malone is still alive, and Valentine is short-handed. I have no idea where Piper is. If we’re going to get out of here alive, I need to help.  
With a roar, I grab Darla’s baseball bat from the ground and then run out into the open. Valentine is doubled over by some crates, shooting at the shelves where he’d previously been hiding. Malone is behind them, firing back with a submachine gun. He turns as he hears my roar and begins shooting at me as well, but the pillar intercepts all of the bullets. By the time I’ve rounded the shelves and am stumbling towards him with the bat in my hand, covered entirely in blood, he’s only just managed to reload. I smash the bat across his face, knee him in the groin, and then disarm him before he can defend himself. As a finishing touch, I aim at him waveringly and press the trigger of his own submachine gun. His body jerks as it’s peppered with a steady stream of bullets, then goes still. Incredibly pleased with myself, yet hardly able to keep ahold of reality anymore, I turn and let the submachine gun slip from my hand, distantly hearing it clatter to the floor. “He’s dead!” I shout hoarsely.  
Worryingly, there’s no reply from Piper, but just before I collapse I hear Valentine’s triumphant voice saying, “D’you think he’s lighter or heavier with all those holes in him?”  
Funny guy.


	8. Kellogg

When I wake up, I’m gazing up at the night sky, framed by the roofs of buildings. We’re out of the vault. Oddly enough, the wounds I know I must be covered in aren’t hurting me anymore. I must’ve been injected with about ten stimpacks.   
“Blue?”  
I glance sideways, feeling a little bit of stinging in my neck still. “Huh?”  
Piper and Valentine are crouching beside me, looking concerned. “I’m great,” I murmur, bringing a hand up to rub my face and blinking hard. “Really.”   
I honestly thought I would be dead – these two must have done the hell of a lot to help me up here. “Thanks,” I say.   
“We used all the stimpacks we had,” Piper explains. “And I needed a few as well – one of them got me in the back.”  
“Seems we pulled through,” I say with a smile.   
“Seems so,” she replies, grinning.  
“Could I… could you help me stand, please?”  
Piper and Valentine each take one of my arms, lifting me until I can gather my weak legs under my body and take my own weight. Now I have no more adrenaline coursing through my veins, I feel extremely mundane. “Well,” I say to Valentine. “Case closed, I guess. We found you.”   
Valentine nods. “Thanks for getting me out. How did you find me, anyway? Not many people knew where I went – not even Piper.”  
“Your secretary, Ellie,” I say. “She sent me.”  
“She did? I should give her raise.” Valentine looks surprised, his yellow eyes widening. “Now, you said something about your son Shaun, and how he went missing. I want you to come to my office in Diamond City and give me all the details. Besides, I think you’ve earned the chance to sit down and clear your head.”  
“I’ll meet you there,” I say. I glance up at the sky, still dark but beginning to fade with the light of dawn.   
“Sure,” Valentine says after waiting a beat. “Careful, now.”  
I watch as he walks away, heading back home alone. Piper cocks her head at me, seemingly perturbed. “Are we not going back yet?”  
“I wanted to check something, in the vault,” I say. “I, uh…” I reach a hand into the pocket of my new extremely bloodstained trousers and then come out with it empty. “Probably best I get some new clothes. And I also left things, important things, in my old jumpsuit. I didn’t think about it when I was in a hurry, but…”  
“What did you leave?” she asks, not entirely convinced.   
“Some caps, things like that.”  
Piper eyes me critically. “You didn’t seem to like being in that vault one bit,” she states. “I doubt you’d want to head back in there just to get a couple o’ flimsy bottle caps.”  
“My wife’s wedding ring,” I say abruptly, giving in. “It’s… I just really need to get it back.”  
I must sound even more lost than I thought, which was why I was determinedly being so vague in the first place. Piper stares at me, her eyes widening slightly, and I sigh. It occurs to me that she never really knew my wife was dead, that perhaps she’d thought it was just Shaun and I in that vault. Perhaps it all makes sense to her now.   
I shake my head. “Look, you just wait out here. I’ll only take a moment.”  
“Oh, no,” she says quickly. “No, I’m coming with you. Definitely. Let’s go.”

\- - -

By the time we get out of the vault again, I’m wearing Skinny Malone’s suit and have my wife’s ring safely tucked in my breast pocket. We begin walking back to Diamond City with a blue sky overhead and the sun rising behind us.   
“Sorry about that,” I say, feeling awkward.  
“About what? Your wife’s ring?” Piper looks dismayed. “Why are you sorry? I… I never… I never knew that – you shouldn’t be sorry, Blue. I’m sorry. I can’t even imagine how you must feel after everything you’ve been through.”  
“I feel pretty bad,” I say. “But not as bad as I would have felt if I knew Shaun was dead as well. I mean… of course, there’s still a possibility that he could be, but if there’s any chance of finding him out here, I’ll take it. I’ll do anything. He’s all I’ve got left.”  
“I get that,” Piper says, nodding. “I feel the same way about Nat.”  
She doesn’t elaborate on this, and I don’t make her. But we walk on in a comfortable silence, knowing we have this one thing in common. At least I’ve managed to get Piper back to her sister – perhaps it bodes well for me in the future. 

\- - -

As soon as we enter the Diamond City marketplace, Piper’s little sister sprints up to us and throws herself into Piper’s arms. “Hey, kid,” Piper laughs, stumbling backwards.   
“What happened?” the little girl asks excitedly. “Tell me everything.”  
“No time now, Nat, I’m sorry,” Piper says, extracting herself from her sister’s arms and ruffling her hair. “Later.”  
“Piper!” the girl huffs.  
“I’ll be back later, okay? Just hang in there.”  
“Actually,” I declare, cutting in. “You should go ahead, Piper. You helped me a lot today, and I’d say you’ve done your full share of helping me–“  
“Blue,” she sighs. “Do you still need me?”  
I scratch my head. “Well… it would be nice if-”  
“Then stop trying to get rid of me!” She rubs Nat’s shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll come by later, okay, Nat? You know how it is.”  
The little girl nods, but still looks irritable. We walk away, and I glance back at her over my shoulder, feeling bad for her. “Is your sister really okay with you being away so often?”  
Piper sighs. “Well, no. But that’s just how it is. It’s not just now, with you – I’ve always left for the Commonwealth, sometimes even for weeks on end. Nat’s gotten used to it by now.”  
I come to a halt, turning to face her. “Look, I just don’t want you to feel inclined to help me,” I tell her. “You’ve been a great help, but this thing with my son… it’ll be dangerous, and who knows how long it’ll take to find him? It’s probably best that you stay here, with your sister.”  
Piper smiles. “I don’t mind the danger. And while staying with Nat is appealing, what’s more appealing is seeing this through. Trust me on that. I want to help you find Shaun, however long it takes.”  
I regard her for a long moment, seeing there’s no way I could possibly dissuade her. “Okay,” I say. Truthfully, I feel relieved that she’s staying on as my travel buddy. I like Piper, and she’s pretty good in the field.   
“Hey, before we head to Valentine’s office…” Piper strides over to the Power Noodles counter in the centre of the market. “Let me introduce you to my confidential informant.” She turns to the protrectron server wearing a chef hat, mixing noodles in a bowl. In a stage whisper, she says, “Takahashi, thanks so much for meeting me here.”  
“Nan-ni shimasu-ka?”  
“Huh?” Her eyes widen in mock horror. She shoots a secretive glance at me, and then slaps a hand to her forehead. “No! But we’ve been travelling together for ages!”  
“Nan-ni shimasu-ka?” the robot repeats.  
Finally, she turns to me and folds her arms. “Ah, sorry, Blue. The jig is up. Takahashi told me everything. Web o’ lies – gone.” She spreads her hands dramatically. She looks me up and down with narrowed eyes and then places her hands on her hips. “I mean… I bet your name’s not even Blue, is it?”  
I laugh, shocked at my own ability to be happy in this mess I’m in. “Well, you got me.”  
Piper says good bye to Takahashi, and we continue on to Valentine’s office in considerably higher spirits. I realize only later that cheering me up was her intention. If, in a world that’s been turned upside down, I can still find people as loyal and kind as she is, there really is a chance I might find my son after all.

\- - -

We enter seemingly just after Valentine does – he’s standing in the centre of the office, calling for his assistant. “Ellie? You here?”   
His assistant appears out from the bedroom area of the office, her face bright with awe and happiness. “Nick!” she exclaims, jogging forwards and hugging him. “Oh God, it’s really you!”   
Valentine pulls away, smiling. “Well, it’s hard to mistake this mug for anyone else.”  
“Hmm. You keep laughing at death, someday death’s gonna laugh back,” she chides him.  
Nick Valentine glances at me and Piper, beaming. “Not as long as I’ve got a few friends to back me up.”  
Ellie turns to me, still smiling widely. “You saved Nick, this agency, and my job! Thank you.”  
Somewhat impatiently, I say, “Can we get started on my case?”  
“Oh, of course!” Ellie says, startled. “There’s just a small clerical thing we need to sort out first.” She hands me a small pouch filled with bottlecaps. “Here. I know an amount wasn’t on the table when you went out to find him, but… you deserve a reward. Plus a little something extra.”  
“Thanks.”  
“All right,” Valentine says, sitting down behind the desk facing the door. “Let’s get down to business. Take a seat – make yourself comfortable.”  
I do as I’m told, sitting down on the chair opposite him on the other side of the desk. Valentine begins, “When you’re trying to find someone who’s missing, the devil’s in the details. Try to tell me everything, no matter how painful it might be.”  
I take a deep breath, sensing Piper listening in from behind me, and watching Ellie take out a clipboard to write down notes. “We’re looking for my son, Shaun,” I say hesitantly. “He’s… less than a year old.” After a sudden moment of frustration, I glance up at Valentine and say, “Why would anyone take him?”  
Valentine nods slowly. “Good question. Why your family in particular? And why an infant? Someone would be taking on all of his care, and a baby needs a lot of it. What else can you tell me?”  
“There was a man and a woman. They didn’t say much. But I remember they called me… ‘the backup’.”   
“So we’re talking a small team,” Valentine affirms. “Professionals. The kind that know to keep their lips tight when they’re on the job. Not sure what ‘the backup’ means, though…” He thinks for a moment. “Well, that confirms it. This isn’t a random kidnapping. Whoever took your kid had an agenda. Hmm… there’s a lot of groups in the Commonwealth that take people. Raiders, Super Mutants, the Gunners, and of course there’s the Institute.”  
The Institute is the only one that jumps out at me. “So you think this Institute is responsible?” I say, leaning forwards.  
“Well, they’re the bogeymen of the Commonwealth. Something goes wrong, everyone blames them. Easy to tell why. Those early model synths of theirs strip whole towns, killing anything in their way. Then you got the newer models, good as human, which infiltrate cities and pull strings from the shadows. Worst of all, no one knows what they’re doing, what their plan is, or where they are. Not even me, and I’m a synth myself. Well, a discarded prototype, anyway.”  
Part of me wants to call him out on that, remind him that he’s one of them. But I can trust Valentine; I know that. He’s not like the Mr. Handy robots, and he’s certainly not stripping cities or replacing other people. My thoughts on robots are very slightly beginning to change.   
“Either way, I need to find Shaun,” I say wearily.  
“You’re right. This speculation is getting us off track,” Valentine agrees. “Let’s focus on what you saw. What did these kidnappers look like?”  
I wrack my brains, trying to come up with something that will be useful. “One of them came up to me,” I say. “Bald head, scar across his left eye.”   
Valentine suddenly sits up straight like a wolf that has scented blood. “Wait… it can’t be. You didn’t by any chance hear the name “Kellogg”, did ya?”  
“Oh yeah,” I say sarcastically. “I heard their names, their home addresses, even where their diary keys are hidden!”  
“Alright, alright,” Nick Valentine says, raising his hands. “Ellie, what notes do we have on the Kellogg case?”  
She consults her clipboard. “The descriptions match. Bald head, scar, reputation for dangerous mercenary work. But… no one knows who his employer is.”  
“And he bought a house here in town, right?” Valentine says, picking up speed. “And he had a kid with him, didn’t he?”  
“Yeah, that’s right. The house in the abandoned West Stands,” she confirms. “And the boy with him was about ten years old.”  
My heart sinks. “There’s no way that could be Shaun.”  
“Yeah,” Valentine agrees reluctantly. “Big difference between an infant and a ten-year-old, but that doesn’t mean we’re on the wrong track. He could’ve had a son of his own. Or maybe he’s turned kidnapping into a bad habit. In any event, they both vanished a while back – no trace.” He stands up, straightening his trench coat. “Let’s you and I go for a walk up to Kellogg’s last known address. See if we can snoop out where he went.”  
Ellie taps her pencil on her chin. “Security doesn’t really go to that part of town, but you guys should still be careful.”  
“I always am,” Nick reassures her. He turns to Piper and I. “Let’s go.”


	9. Hot On The Trail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a long one, guys - enjoy!

The house on the West Stands is dark and uninviting. The perfect hideout for a man who doesn’t want visitors, hidden in a shadowed area above the rest of the city. On our short walk here, Valentine updated me on what he himself had learned from Kellogg: the man was a quick, merciless killer. He didn’t have any enemies, because they were all dead. Except me, of course.   
“Here we are. Keep an eye out, will ya?” Valentine crouches and begins tinkering with the lock, and I sigh and look out over Diamond City, leaning against the railing. It looks quite pretty from up here, the sun rising over tin roofs and smoking chimneys. The people are already walking about the square, buying things from stores or eating noodles at Takahashi’s restaurant. Piper leans her arms on the railing next to me, thoughtful. “I’ve got a question,” she says.  
“What?”  
“If this guy’s a killer, and he always kills everyone at a scene… why leave you alive this one time when he could easily have killed you, too?”  
I shrug, having realized the same thing. None of it really makes sense.  
Piper continues, “I’m thinking he must have had a pretty important agenda. Whoever he was working for had a lot of power, and they were paying him enough that he went against his own merc nature. It can’t have been Raiders, Super Mutants or Gunners, Blue. Whoever he was working for, they’re way bigger.”  
“So the Institute’s the only option,” I mutter. “The notoriously sneaky, shadowy spies who enlist robots to kill and kidnap innocent people.”  
“I’m not saying anything’s for sure,” she says hesitantly. “But it seems the most possible…”  
“That’s one heck of a lock,” Valentine interjects, walking over and patting my shoulder. “Why don’t you give it a try?”  
I walk over and crouch by the lock, but from its thickness and the complicated machinery I can see though the hole, I already know it’s too hard of a lock for me. I walk back to Valentine. “No luck?” he says. I shake my head.   
He sighs in frustration. “We need a key.” He points towards the entrance of Diamond City. “See that platform over there? That’ll take you up to the mayor’s office. Why don’t you go ask around there? I’ll stay here and see if I can jimmy this lock…”  
Piper and I leave Valentine muttering to himself and fumbling with the complicated lock and head back through town towards the platform. As we climb in and I press the button to raise us up, I glance at her and say, “You aren’t gonna mess this up, are you?”  
“Huh?” She looks offended.  
“You and the mayor aren’t exactly friends.”  
“Oh, please,” she says, waving a hand. “He’s not the one we’ll be talking to, anyway. He just hides in that room out back and lets Geneva do all the talking.”  
I don’t reply to that.   
One the elevator stops, we both step out and Piper stays behind me. I walk up to the receptionist’s desk; she’s a pale, skinny woman with fiercely stylish blond hair. Geneva, I suppose.  
“I can help you if you’re not the press,” she says with a smile and a slow sardonic look in Piper’s direction. “What is it you need?”  
“I was wondering if I could have the keys to Kellogg’s house,” I say.  
“Mr. Kellogg’s residence?” She frowns. “He left some time ago. We foreclosed the property and locked it up. If there was something belonging to the man you lay a claim on, you could talk to the mayor. But no guarantees.”  
“Come on,” I wheedle. “Can’t you help me yourself?”  
She looks at me suspiciously. “And if I could, why would I?”  
I sigh, glancing back at Piper. She’s the one who’s good at talking, not me. But she only gestures with her chin for me to return to the conversation.   
“Please, all I wanna do is find my son,” I say, allowing some desperation into my voice. “The man who owned that house kidnapped him.”  
The woman gazes at me, and I see that I’ve won. “Oh, well you do seem like a nice guy,” she says grudgingly. “All right. I’m gonna put the key right here and ‘forget’ I put it there. Your son’s lucky he has a father like you – I hope you find him.”  
I nod at her to show my gratitude and then take the keys she placed on her desk while she isn’t looking. I turn back towards the lift, and Piper’s grinning at me. “Smoothly done, lady-killer,” she says as we step onto the platform.  
“Still could’ve used some help,” I say as I push the button to go down.   
“Geneva knows me too well,” Piper says. “One word from me and she’d have kicked us out.”  
“Right.”

\- - -

After a brisk jog back up to Kellogg’s house, we find Valentine leaning against the door smoking a cigarette. “Got the key? All right,” he says with satisfaction, moving out of the way. “You do the honours.”  
I insert the key into the lock and turn it, hearing the mechanism click. Time to see the home of my son’s kidnapper.  
I tap on the light switch just on the inside of the wall by the door, and the whole little house is illuminated. My movement has disturbed the layers of dust – there are particles floating everywhere. It’s sure been a while since Kellogg was living here.   
There’s a desk and a chair beside the stairs, and upstairs – when I check – there is only a bed and a chest of drawers upon which are a few old corn husks. “This place seem small to you?” Valentine asks from below. “A guy like Kellogg’d think big.”  
I’m coming down the stairs as I hear him, and my attention is immediately caught by the desk. Or, more specifically, what’s in the desk. Just on the inside, I can see a big red button. “Agreed,” I say exultantly, and then I push it. With a great automatic hum, a section of the wall by the door slides itself open, revealing a fluorescently lit interior. And the hell of a lot of food.   
“Well,” Valentine says, glancing inside with fascination. “That’s one way to hide a room.”  
We all enter, looking around, and begin searching the shelves. “Well, look at this,” Valentine says as he glances at the rows of Sugar Bombs, iguana soup, squirrel bits, Cram, and Nuka Cola. “All of the merc’s favourite things.”  
I walk over to the couch in the centre of the room and pick up a cigar box. “San Francisco Sunlights,” I read under my breath.  
“Interesting brand,” Valentine notes. “Won’t lead us anywhere on its own, though.”  
I shrug and place it in my pack, adding the stimpacks and some of the shelved food as well – finders keepers, after all. Not like Kellogg needed it anymore if he left it all here.   
After searching every inch of the secret room, I knead my forehead with my fingers. “We’ll never find him, will we?”  
“Damn it, drop the doom and gloom act,” Valentine exclaims. “It’ll never help you find Shaun.”  
“What about Dogmeat?” Piper suggests, turning to us. “Dog like that could probably track a scent for miles.”  
“Yeah, good idea,” Valentine agrees. “Why don’t you go fetch him, see if he can get a whiff of that cigar?”  
I nod, my mind back on track now. He’s right about the doom and gloom act – since when has feeling sorry for myself ever worked?  
“Before you head out, though,” Valentine adds. “I know this is… personal business. If you have to take Kellogg on your own, just say so. But you’ve already got enough company; we can’t all go sniffing through the wasteland after one man.”  
“I don’t know,” I admit, hesitant. “I might need you on this one, but I think the mission’s better off with less people.”  
“No problem,” Nick says. “You need help, you just come knockin’. If not, then the next time I see you, I hope it’s with your son, safe and sound.”  
“Thanks, Valentine,” I say. “See you.”  
“Goodbye.”   
As he leaves the house, I turn to look at Piper – she’s still browsing curiously through the shelves. “You sure you wanna tag along with this one?” I ask. “This is your last chance to back out.”  
“Like Nick said, if you have to take it alone, just say so,” Piper tells me. “But otherwise, I’m coming with you.”  
I watch her for a moment. “I’m glad.”  
She smiles at me, proving she’s glad too. “Let’s go get that dog.”

\- - -

Someone let Dogmeat out of Dugout Inn – we don’t find him in there, and end up having to search the city for him. We finally find him out back where the farm is, standing in a field of Brahmin. I whistle, and he perks up immediately, wagging his tail. “Come here, boy!” I call.  
Dogmeat bounds over to us and begins butting his head against my legs, licking at my hands. “Here, boy,” I say with a smile, holding out a cigar. “Take the scent.”   
Dogmeat sniffs it a little bit and then cocks his head, whining. He obviously senses the importance of this mission.   
“You got it?” I say. “Take me to Kellogg. Take me to that son of a bitch.”  
As if he understood me, Dogmeat sets off at a run, and Piper and I sprint after him.   
We exit Diamond City for the second time together with Dogmeat straining ahead of us, hard on the scent of Kellogg’s favourite cigars. We jog until we’ve crossed a bridge out of the city line and find ourselves at a small pond. Dogmeat seems to have found something. I search the pond itself for clues of Kellogg’s whereabouts, but there’s nothing. There goes my hopes that he drowned himself…  
Beside the pond next to a deck chair is a cigar in an ashtray. Piper picks it up. “Hey, someone was here – do you think it was Kellogg?”  
I stride over and take it from her hand, heart lifting again as I see it’s the same brand. I quickly lower it to Dogmeat’s nose. “You got it, boy?”  
Dogmeat barks and then sets off again, up to the train tracks. We follow him without hesitation, trusting his nose. Just as we’re coming up to some tipped-over train cars, a whole family of mole rats bursts up from the ground at our feet. We shout in surprise and stumble out of the way, shooting wildly. The sound of our bullets fills the empty wasteland, so loud that I have to wince. Once we’ve killed all the mole rats, we check the bodies and continue on without question, yet again following Dogmeat.   
The next place he leads us to where the smell seems to be the strongest is a lower level road. By this time, it’s already midday, and we’re sweating profusely from all our running. And we’re extremely exhausted.   
We find the bodies of three raiders and a destroyed machinegun turret, and then some bloody bandages hanging on a railing. These I show to Dogmeat, and he whines and runs up the stairs back into the wasteland. I quickly search the corpses for bottlecaps and ammo, Piper watching. “I can carry something for you, if you want,” she suggests, seeing how weighed down I am now.  
“It’s fine,” I reply noncommittally. Nothing matters now except finding Kellogg.  
We follow Dogmeat up the stairs and continue along the tracks. From thereon, we don’t encounter much danger – unless you count the gigantic scarred bear which almost tears all of us to pieces, or the pack of wild irradiated dogs, or the bloat flies. It’s a dangerous path, but nothing stops us for more than a few minutes.   
Dogmeat leads us down through another underpass into a tunnel, and I can see a small table at the end with a bottle of Gwilsner Ale on it. Kellogg’s favourite brand. This guy left a pretty sturdy trail – and he’s supposed to be a professional merc? Ha.   
I pick up the bottle and hold it out for Dogmeat to smell. “Anything to go on?”  
He barks and shoots off again, leaving us barely enough time to gather our wits and follow him before he disappears. We jog for another good ten minutes, passing over a bridge blocked partly by containers. Hidden between all the containers, unfortunately, are ghouls. This is my first time meeting the things that Preston Garvey told me about during my first day in the Commonwealth. They’re ugly, they smell bad, and they’re quite obviously no longer human. I have no problem shooting them and taking the bottlecaps and useful items from their pockets.   
We pass several houses, running non-stop until we reach one of the most telling signs of Kellogg’s whereabouts so far. Blocking our path is a dead trader, some dead robots, and an assaultron speaking rapidly at us even though its head has been separated from its body. “What have we here?” I say, looking down at it.  
“Error: system corrupt. I can’t feel my legs.”  
I sigh. “Just tell us where Kellogg went, tin can.”  
“Identity of assailant: Kellogg.” The head sparks a few times and then starts smoking. I realize that’s all I’m getting out of the dying robot.  
“We’re still on track,” Piper says optimistically, kicking at the arm of a protrectron. “Hopefully he’s not much further.”  
“Hopefully,” I agree grimly. We follow Dogmeat up the road and turn up a hill into the sparse forest. He definitely knows where he’s going now, but he seems to be running in random patterns, weaving between trees and up and down hills. By the time we finally get somewhere, arriving at the fence to a compound, both Piper and I can barely breathe. We stop, hands on our knees. “Can’t be… far,” Piper pants. “See if you can find anything.”  
I straighten up and catch Dogmeat sniffing at some rags hanging on a bar – bloody. These have fresher, wetter blood on them. I pull them down so Dogmeat can sniff them, hoping he will actually lead us to Kellogg this time. Fingers crossed. Dogmeat barks, and I grab Piper’s arm and pull her after me as the dog sets off at a hard sprint, almost leaving us both behind.  
Dogmeat finally stops at the boarded-up entrance to the Fort Hagen building. He sniffs at the sandbags and wood, barking excitedly. “Is this it?” I ask him. “Is this the place?”  
Dogmeat barks at me again, licking my hand.  
“This is it, isn’t it?” Piper murmurs, examining the blocked entrance with awe. “Kellogg’s in here.” After deciding there’s absolutely no way we’ll get in through the main doors, she turns and says, “All right, Blue. It’s you and me. I think Dogmeat’s earned some time out.”  
I nod in agreement and pat Dogmeat on the head. “Wait here, boy.”  
We run round the right side of the building, keeping to the wall, and are pleased to find some scaffolding leading up to the roof at the back. As I begin to climb, however, I hear the familiar humming of a turret firing up. “Shit!” I shout. We both duck as bullets from several directions come spraying at us. I flatten myself against the wall and lift my submachine gun, aiming while the turrets are reloading. I get one, and Piper gets the other (their explosions shake the building) – but I have a feeling there are several more up there. “Keep low,” I warn her.  
We climb the scaffolding warily and then jog to reach another wall. After two quick glances, I turn back to Piper and say, “There are three. Two above on the next level, one just around this corner.”  
“I’ll the get the corner, you go up,” she says. I nod, and we both dodge out from cover at the same time. As she shoots the nearest turret, I climb up another ramp and aim between the two turrets at the front of the building. There are three simultaneous resounding explosions, and Piper and I duck as pieces of metal come shooting our way. Finally, there’s silence. Piper comes jogging up the ramp behind me. “Is that it?” she asks, trying to catch her breath.  
“Yeah.” I eject the empty clip of my gun and reload. “Why would there be so many turrets up here?” I wonder. “Especially in the middle of the roof, where no one would trespass anyway. Unless…”   
We cross the roof to the other side, where there’s the remains of the two turrets. Jackpot! There’s a hatch here, black and streaked with rust. “Looks like we’ve found our way in,” I say triumphantly. We both heave it open, struggling with the rusted hinges, and Piper clambers down the ladder first into the building. As I jump down after her, I see we’re definitely in the right place; although the room looks like it’s been wrecked by a bulldozer, the lights are on; someone went to the trouble of restoring power.   
We look around cautiously, worried to move just yet in case there are hostiles nearby. And then I hear a robotic voice in the silence: “Movement detected. Curious.”  
Piper and I crouch in unison, crawling over to hide behind a blockade of drawers. I glance at her, and she mouths “synth” at me. Well, at least I’ll have some practice before I face off with Kellogg.  
“What’s their weakness?” I ask. Because all I’ve ever really fought against are humans. Anything soft-bodied. Robots are a different story.   
“Aim for the limbs, not the torso,” Piper suggests. “Anything to cripple them so they can no longer shoot at us.”  
“All right.” I peek through a gap in our blockade and see it for the first time – a spindly white robot with glowing eyes, carrying a laser rifle. Behind it, humming quietly out of sight, I can hear a turret. “Damn, we’ve got to take that out, too,” I whisper. “Have you got it?”  
Piper takes a peek. “Sure – round the corner, right? Count down from three?”  
“Three… two…”  
On one, we both jump up and over the blockade, Piper jogging and aiming for the unaware turret while I shoot at the synth with my submachine gun. I aim for the arms holding the gun first, and am pleased when Piper’s advice works and the arms spark and break, exposing torn wires. The synth turns, attempting to run towards me, and I shoot it in the face. It goes down twitching, and I kick its body with my boot. Then, as an afterthought, I pick up its laser rifle. Better damage than the submachine gun, and the fusion cells seem to be plentiful. Time for an upgrade, I think.  
I hear another robotic voice to my right, and realize there’s another synth through a hole in the wall. I raise the laser rifle and shoot at the robot three times, shocked when it bursts into flames and crumples to the ground. Damn, this is a good upgrade.   
“You good?” I ask, turning to Piper.  
“All good,” she replies. We head down the stairs, uncertain and ready for trouble – at the next floor, as we peek around the wall, about three synths begin shooting at us, exclaiming in monotone robotic voices. Piper and I shoot back, returning towards safety in the stairwell. “Here,” I say, handing her half of my stimpacks. “Never know what could happen.”  
“Thanks.” She tucks them all into her trench coat and then hands me back some bubble gum. “Want some?”  
“Definitely.”  
We round the wall with our guns blazing. Two of the synths spark and go down, twitching, while the third explodes into flame. Piper and I reload and head into one of the rooms, glancing around. Loads of desks and filing cabinets; no synths. And no Kellogg. As we pass into a computer room, two more synths intercept us, one considerably more powerful than the other – it continues attacking us even after we’ve disarmed it and taken off both arms. And then there’s the issue with the laser turret, which almost blasts me right in the chest, and would have if I hadn’t yanked the dead synth’s body in front of me to block me from harm. I rush towards a pillar, out of the turret’s line of sight, and find myself facing a terminal. Could it be…?  
Keeping myself hidden, I log in. The hacking level is slightly more advanced than I’m used to, but only because it’s three letters more.   
Experts… expects… packets!   
Yes, I’m in. I begin by opening the turret controls, deactivating it before it causes any more harm. I then unlock the storage closet right beneath the turret, knowing that the fact it’s locked means there’s something of use inside. There are stimpacks, bottlecaps and some ammunition, but that’s all.   
Piper and I, already so weary we could both collapse there and then, find ourselves next in an elevator carrying us down into the building’s basement. “What if he isn’t here?” I ask nervously, as we stand side by side waiting for the doors to open.  
“He is,” Piper replies grimly. “One of the synths was saying ‘Asset: Kellogg, in danger’.”  
“What if he doesn’t have Shaun?”  
Piper just looks at me. “We’ll see, okay Blue? We’ll see.”  
The elevator opens out into a long hallway; Piper and I crouch when we see a turret idling just at the end, a synth by its side. They haven’t seen us yet, but they will. I crouch, raise the laser rifle to my shoulder, and level it with the turret. Hit it where the gas chamber is, and it’ll explode, taking the synth with it. I breathe in slowly, and with my exhale I press the trigger. The laser hits the turret exactly where I’d anticipated, and it explodes without warning, hitting the synth with the full force of fifty scraps of metal. Unfortunately, a synth I hadn’t anticipated comes running out of the room after the explosion, an electro-charged security baton in its hand. I quickly try to reload my weapon, dodging into a side room as the synth comes for us, and Piper covers me by shooting it twice in the torso. The plate protecting its extremities falls off, revealing its inner machinery, but it keeps on going. As Piper is about to dive out of the way, I dodge out of the room and whack the robot hard in the chest, the barrel of my gun smashing the circuitry. With a few sparks and jolts, the synth goes down.   
We collect ammo from the exploded turret and synth and begin down the stairs into the mains of the basement. The only thing that stops us in our tracks is the crackling over the intercom and then the low, sneering voice: “Well, if it isn’t my old friend the frozen TV dinner.”  
I know that voice. That voice has haunted me since Vault 111. The voice of my wife’s murderer. Piper must see the fury in my face; her own expression darkens as well, recognising this is Kellogg we’re hearing.   
“Last time we met, you were cosying up to the peas and apple cobbler.”  
I wait for him to say more, but the intercom goes silent. Swearing out loud, I continue through the corridor quicker and shove open the metal door, so unaware in my anger that I set off a trap. Piper grabs me and pulls me back as an electronic beacon on the ceiling begins electrocuting everything in its sight. Close save. Still breathing heavily from my anger, I mutter, “Thanks.”  
“Don’t go crazy, yet,” she warns me. “We’re so close. You’re so close to getting him.”  
“I know.” I take a few deep breaths, calming myself. “Let’s go.”  
We pass under the trap once it’s released its full charge, and head down more stairs to another door.   
“Sorry your house has been wrecked for 200 years,” comes Kellogg’s taunting voice over the intercom again. “But I don’t need a roommate. Leave.”  
Fat chance, you bastard. I’m coming to get you.   
We pass through a set of double metal doors, entering the command centre of Fort Hagen; all the control panels are out of order, covered with dust, and there’s the skeleton of one lone soldier on the floor. We pass through this room and into the next corridor without a thought.   
“Hmph,” Kellogg sighs. “Didn’t expect you to come knocking at my door. Gave you fifty-fifty odds of even making it to Diamond City. After that, figured the Commonwealth would chew you up like jerky.”  
Piper and I exchange angry looks; she may not be related in any way to this asshole, but she hates him just as much as I do. And there’s no better fuel for your anger than someone else feeling the same as you. We head down a corridor, hearing nothing more from the intercom for a moment, but as soon as we enter the barracks of the command centre, his voice returns.  
“Look, you’re pissed off – I get it. But whatever you’re hoping to accomplish in here… it’s not gonna go your way.”  
If only I could answer him right now. I would tell him just how much it is going to go my way. I search the footlockers by the beds for more ammunition, and then the bathroom for stimpacks. We keep going, following the dimly-lit corridor towards the source of Kellogg’s voice. Expertly, Piper and I raid the small medical room and the kitchen as well for more food, meds and chems, and then head down the stairs into another long, low corridor. This one is darker, and at the end I can see the glowing forms of some synths.   
“You’ve got guts, I admit it,” Kellogg says, returning again over the intercom. “But you’re way over your head in ways you can’t even imagine.”  
I raise my gun. And I sprint full force down the corridor towards the synths.   
They turn and begin shooting at me as I run, but I dive for cover behind a crate of empty boxes. Peeking out twice, I shoot two of the synths in the head, and their leader in the torso, destroying its chest plate. As it comes running towards me, Piper finishes it with two shots to the head. We continue on, as faultless as machinery, with only one goal in mind: to get to Kellogg and put a bullet in his skull.  
“It’s not too late,” Kellogg warns us over the intercom. “Stop. Turn around and leave. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that.”  
I imagine that he’s getting scared now, now that he can see I’m not turning around. Now that he can see his death coming straight at him.  
The next door we come to is locked, and I have to hack into the terminal to disengage the lock. I do so smoothly and quickly, feeling like nothing can stop me now. The door swings open, and Piper and I continue through. In the rooms here, we scavenge for yet more stimpacks and bottlecaps. We have Kellogg trapped, and he knows it as well as we do – we can take as much time as we please.  
I can tell we’re extremely close when we enter the main office with red carpeting and a trophy case. Kellogg must be just through that next door.   
A sigh over the intercom. “Okay, you made it. I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk.”  
Talk? All I want to do is kill him and get my son back.   
The door swings open automatically, and Piper and I pass through warily. Up another set of stairs, and then we’re in a dark and particularly empty-looking room. As I walk in, however, there’s a snapping sound as all the lights flicker on above me. From around the machines, the man who killed my wife and stole my son appears, hands raised.   
“And there he is,” Kellogg says mockingly, lowering his hands. “The most resilient man in the Commonwealth. Funny. I thought I had that honour.”  
“Where’s my son?” I demand. “Where is Shaun?” I stride up to him until we’re face to face, staring each other down. He knows I won’t hesitate to kill him, and vice versa. I know this scar, those dark malevolent eyes, and the mouth set in a perpetual smirk. I know this man, and I know he has to die.   
Kellogg tuts. “Pal, I’m just a puppet like you. My stage is a little bigger, that’s all.” He sighs, and I almost think I can see emotion behind those eyes. “Listen, Shaun’s a good kid. A bit older than you expected, am I right? But he’s doing great. Only… he’s not here. He’s with the people pulling the strings.”  
By now, my desperation is so strong that I’m sure I’ll snap, that I’ll shoot Kellogg in the head. But I’m smart enough to know that it’s not the greatest course of action. I raise my gun, levelling it with Kellogg’s face. “Goddammit, you mercenary motherfucker. Where. Is. My. Son?!”  
Kellogg, unfazed, tilts his head at me. “What’s the cliché? ‘So close yet so far away’? That’s Shaun. But don’t worry. You’ll die knowing he’s safe, and happy. A bit older than you expected, but ah well. At least he’s in a loving home. The Institute.” He raises an eyebrow at me.  
“No!” I falter, my gun lowering slightly. Goddamn this asshole, I know he’s telling the truth. My son is with the Institute, the one group than no one knows anything about. I’ll never find him.   
My world is slowly being leached of colour. Kellogg smiles at me, at the pain in my eyes.  
I swallow hard. “It’s… it’s not true. I’ve come so far…”  
“Yes, you have,” Kellogg agrees. “And believe it or not, I’m actually kinda sorry you wasted your time. In another life, you probably would’ve been a good father. But in this terrible reality? You don’t get that chance.”  
I glance back over my shoulder at Piper, who has her pistol trained on the nearest synth, listening to the conversation with a pale face. God, we’re in deep shit. I’ve gotten us into this now; I have to get us out.  
“I think we’ve been talking long enough,” Kellogg decides. I turn back to him, and he’s straightened up, more alert. His hand is hovering near his hip, where his pistol is holstered. “We both know how this has to end. So… you ready?”  
“You know,” I say, my eyes sparking with resentment. “In a hundred years, when I finally die, I only hope I go to hell so that I can kill you all over again, you piece of shit.”  
Kellogg’s face becomes a smiling grimace as he draws his own gun. I see it coming before it even happens; in my mind’s eye, I watch myself knocking his hand away before he levels it and then head-butting him in the face. Once he’s party incapacitated, I can shoot him however many times I please to kill him.   
With a blink, I return to reality. As he begins to raise his gun, I knock his arm to the side with hyper speed and jerk my head forwards to head-butt him hard in the face. My forehead stings, but I ignore it, advancing on Kellogg as he falls backwards, caught entirely by surprise. He thought this would be easy. He’d thought my grief and desperation would weaken me. But it only makes me stronger. I send a shot into his head, deliver two shots into his chest, and another into his groin.  
And then…   
Five more shots. I riddle his body with so many bullets it becomes unrecognizable.   
The synth I hadn’t considered, who had been by his side, shoots twice at me. I fall backwards against a desk, rifle clattering out of my hand, gasping for air.   
I’m on fire, I think. At least, that’s how it feels.   
My vision blurs just like it did during that battle in Vault 114, and I have to grab ahold of the closest object in order not to fall on the ground: a desk chair. The only thing keeping me conscious right now is the fact I’ve triumphed. I killed Kellogg! I killed the man who slaughtered my wife, who kidnapped my son and gave him away. I wheeze, and realize I’m actually laughing through the pain. I want to laugh about it with Piper, but I don’t know where she is. I think I can hear her shouting something, and the sound of multiple gunshots, but I’m not entirely sure.  
As the synth that shot me advances on me, it checks me for signs of vitality. “Asset: Kellogg. Mission failed,” it says. “Subject still alive.”  
I gasp for air, certain that my heart’s been hit and I’m leaking blood everywhere, raising my hand in front of my face as the synth stops in front of me. I’m a sitting duck. I glance sideways in my blurred sight and see a pen on the desk, a fountain pen with a sharp end. With a strangled gasp, I reach for it, and as the synth draws back its gun to smash me in the face, I thrust the pen straight into one of its glowing eye sockets, burying the sharp end into its vital circuitry. A powerful electric shock surges up my arm leaving me with the acrid scent of burning flesh, and I black out for several seconds, coming to with the robot slumped on top of me.   
Disorientated and not wanting to pass out again, I allow myself to slide to the floor, pushing the robot carcass away, and reach into my pockets with trembling fingers. I’ll need about two stimpacks for this, I can tell. I inject myself, gasping as the powerful medicine fills my system, getting to work on repairing the wounds on my chest and stomach. And then I sit there and just breathe. I think about Shaun. I think about Nora. And I think about Kellogg. Today, I almost died. And I almost won.  
But even though I killed Kellogg like I wanted to, I still don’t have Shaun. And I’m going to have to keep on going, even if it does kill me. Even if finding him is practically impossible.   
“Blue? You okay?” To my utter surprise and relief, Piper jogs over and reaches down with both hands to help me to my feet. She’s still alive.   
“I don’t know,” I reply honestly, my voice a rasp. “Hopefully the stimpacks will do their work.” I feel my torso, and am ultimately very surprised. I’d forgotten I was wearing those metal plates beneath my clothes – they protected me from the raw energy of that synth’s laser gun. Lucky I’d planned ahead, I suppose.  
“Guess we showed them,” Piper says, as we both stare down at Kellogg’s unmoving body.   
“Guess so.” I crouch down, favouring my tender chest, and frown at the mess of his split skull. My laser rifle tore through his head and opened it up, splattering his brains. Only… I know what a brain looks like, and this isn’t a normal brain. Piper makes a disgusted sound as I dig through the mess and pick out a piece with a small metal circuit on it. “All this tech,” I say, surprised. “This guy was hardly even human.”  
“And you’re surprised?” Piper asks. “Check his pockets.”  
I pick out his gun along with all his .44 bullets, and an oddly-shaped package Piper calls a Stealth Boy. But that’s basically it. “Nothing else,” I say. And then, after a moment, I tug at his clothes. They’re made of a very strong material, something metallic. “Except… I could do with a change of clothes.”

\- - -

After I’ve changed into Kellogg’s clothes, I log into the nearest terminal, unlock all the security doors, and check out Kellogg’s personal files. It’s certain: he kidnapped Shaun, he killed my wife, and he left me alive to follow him. And it’s also certain he works for the Institute. Never before have I felt so doomed.   
Piper and I leave Fort Hagen at five in the afternoon; we’re both stumbling and tired, healing from numerous wounds. We head out through the back exit, the fire escape, coming out on the roof to catch sight of the sun beginning to sink below the clouds. It’s a warming sight. And there’s something else, too: a great roaring sound. And the numerous chopping sounds of vertibird blades.   
Piper and I stare up in shock at the gigantic airship as it passes directly over Fort Hagen, surrounded by an escort of about seven vertibirds. A warship the size of an aircraft carrier, floating through the sky, casting a giant shadow over the land. It is a literal symbol of war – a war that will be won.   
I’m confused for a second. Is it the army? Does the US army still operate?  
My misperception is cleared up when, over a loud speaker, I hear an authorative man’s voice. “PEOPLE OF THE COMMONWEALTH. DO NOT INTERFERE. OUR INTENTIONS ARE PEACEFUL. WE ARE THE BROTHERHOOD OF STEEL.”  
I’ve heard of these guys. Piper mentioned they were some sort of military group, pro-human. Against the Institute, of course. They’re like the more forceful versions of the Minutemen, with utilitarian views on what the Commonwealth’s future should look like. So not perfect, but still the good guys. As the gigantic airship streaks across the sky, I can’t help but feel very nervous. After all, the army didn’t seem to do much for me right before the war began. Surely this can’t be a good thing?  
“I don’t believe it,” Piper breathes, staring up at the ship with wide eyes, her face tilted all the way towards the sky. She turns suddenly to me, hazel eyes bright and animated with amazement. “Have you seen anything like that? The airship? God, they must have an entire army on that thing.”  
I smile at her excitement. “That’s what I was thinking.”  
We watch the airship pass towards the east, unable to draw our eyes away from the sight. Once it’s retreated enough that we can no longer hear it, we head down off the roof to where we left Dogmeat. 

\- - -

“Do you think it’s a good thing?” I ask Piper as we set up camp before our walk back to Diamond City. “That the Brotherhood has arrived with that giant airship?”  
Piper sits down beside the fire she just lit, rubbing her hands against the cold. “No idea,” she mutters. “But it could be. Who knows? Maybe a little force is all the Commonwealth needs.”  
I sit down beside her. The forest around us is pitch black, flickering with orange from our fire. Dogmeat sits on the other side of the fire to us, licking his paws. “Do you think…” I trail off. “Do you think they could help me find my son? Do you think they could help me find the Institute and destroy it?”  
Piper looks a little grim, glancing at me in the firelight. “Honestly? Despite how much the Brotherhood might want to take down the Institute, I doubt they’d think much of your quest to save your son. They seem too focused on ‘the greater good’.”  
I’m upset, obviously, to hear such a thing, but I’d already known that was true. The army will never change. Piper sees that she’s lowered my spirits and scoots closer to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “Hey, we’ll find Shaun no matter what,” she tells me determinedly. “Whether we have a faction like the Brotherhood on our side or not.”


	10. Riding The Brain Train

We return to Diamond City by ten the next morning. After some quick-decision making, we both decide we’ll get some more sleep (last night there were too many foreign sounds for either of us to catch more than an hour of sleep) and then head to Valentine’s office in the afternoon to see what he can make of everything. Maybe there’s still a way to use Kellogg after all. Though I doubt it. I doubt we have any leads left whatsoever. But Valentine got me this far, right? He’s good at what he does, and I trust him to help me again.  
On my dirty, holey bed in Dugout Inn, with Dogmeat curled up beside me, I drift off into a sleep deeper than I’ve ever known. I dream of great big battleships swooping down from the sky, and on them armies of synths – at their head, Kellogg with his sneering face. And worst of all is this faceless kid beside him, faceless because I don’t know what Shaun looks like anymore. I don’t even remember the face of baby Shaun, let alone ten-year-old Shaun. And this faceless kid, this faceless Shaun, sneers at me too, and sends army after army to rain fire upon me.

\- - -

When I wake in the afternoon, it’s with the hell of a lot of aches and pains. I climb out of bed, get dressed, and wash my face. My nose has more or less healed, but I’ve got some new cuts on my face, and I’m streaked with grime. Once I feel clean and refreshed, I pat Dogmeat on the head and we leave Dugout Inn together. I get some power noodles from Takahashi for a late lunch, and sit on a stool eating them, watching the door of Publick Occurences. Is Piper even awake yet? Would it be appropriate to go in and get her? Or… maybe it’s best I do this without her. I cancel the thought immediately, knowing it would be unfair. She chose to stick with me through this, so I’ve got to include her.   
It’s only when I’ve finished my second noodle bowl that she steps out of her office and comes over to join me. She still looks fatigued, like she didn’t get much sleep at all, and there’s a healing cut on her cheek I didn’t notice before. “Hey, Blue,” she says, with an astounding effort to be perky. I think we were both let down a little by the events of yesterday, so kudos to her for still trying to be positive.  
“Hey. Breakfast?” I say.  
“Already had some,” she responds. “Let’s go. No time to waste, right?”  
Right.  
When we step inside Valentine’s Detective Agency, the radio’s on and Nick’s sitting at one of the desks smoking a cigarette and looking through case files. When we walk over to him, he stands up to greet us, alert. “So? Where’s your son?” he says to me. “What happened?”  
“Where do you want me to start?” I say wearily. “The part where Kellogg turned out to be working for the Institute? Or the part where he gave them Shaun?”  
Nick Valentine sighs, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. “I’m sorry, friend. Truly. That makes things… considerably more complicated.”  
Piper nods, leaning against Ellie’s desk. “He ain’t kidding. Heck, Nick’s a synth and even he doesn’t know how to get in.”  
“No synth does. It’s a security protocol,” Valentine explains.  
“I need to find a way,” I say resolutely. “Any way.”  
“I’ve been investigating these creeps for almost a year now,” Piper clarifies. “The Commonwealth’s boogeyman. Feared and hated by everyone.”  
“True enough,” Valentine agrees.  
Piper continues, “Sometimes they snatch people in the middle of the night. And sometimes they leave old synths behind to remind us that they’re out there. But to this day there’s one thing nobody really knows…”  
“…Where the Institute actually is,” Valentine finishes for her. “Or how to get in.”  
“Exactly,” Piper says. She thinks for a moment, her eyes searching my face. “But there’s someone who has to know, right? The person who just handed them Shaun.”  
“Kellogg? Huh,” Valentine scratches his chin, thoughtful.  
“Whatever you’re thinking,” I say. “Don’t bother. He’s dead.”  
“Yeah. Figures the Institute’s only man on the outside wouldn’t be the type to be taken alive…”  
Piper’s silent; I can almost see the wheels turning in her head again, her mind working out the details of the story. “So, murderer and kidnapper gets his brains blown out by an avenging parent.” She sighs. “Would have been a great ending if we didn’t still have the greatest mystery in the Commonwealth to solve…”  
“He wasn’t gonna talk,” I say. “Even if I’d worked out a way of bringing him in alive.”  
We’re all silent for a while, thinking hard.  
“Hmm. ‘Gets his brains blown out’…” Valentine repeats finally. “His brains… You know, we may not need the man at all.”  
Piper stares at him. “You’re talking crazy here, Nick. Got a fault in the ‘ole subroutines?”  
Valentine shakes his head. “Look, there’s a place in Goodneighbor called the Memory Den. Where you can relive your thoughts and memories as clear as the day they happened. If anyone can get a dead brain to sing, it’ll be Doctor Amari, the mind behind the memories.”  
“Who’s this Doctor Amari?” I ask suspiciously.  
“I’ll let her give you her life story in person,” Valentine replies. “Let’s stay focused.”  
“So… we go to this Goodneighbor, then?” I ask, giving in. “And see if she can help?”  
“I guess we’ll need a piece of Kellogg’s brain,” Valentine decides. “Then we can figure out how this is going to work.”  
Piper scoffs. “Jesus, Nick, gross! Seriously?”  
“I know it’s grisly, but what else do we have?” he counters. “No leads, nothing. That old merc’s brain might hold everything we need to know.”  
I become alert, already digging into my pocket where I carefully packed something small and unusual in plastic this morning. “Actually, I might already have something,” I say. “There was this… thing attached to Kellogg’s brain.” I take it out and hold it up. Valentine looks more closely, and Piper glances away in disgust.  
“Cybernetics, huh?” Valentine says, seeming eager now. “We may have just won the lottery.”  
Piper waves her hands as I put the piece of Kellogg’s brain back into my pocket and return Valentine’s triumphant smile. “Whether we’re riding this crazy brain train or not, we can’t all go running across the Commonwealth. So… who’s coming with you?”  
I’m surprised she asked, since she seemed so adamant to stay by my side before. Obviously, she’s asking because she knows taking Valentine along would be the cleverest idea; he already knows this Doctor Amari and how the whole process works.   
“I have to go to the Memory Den either way if I’m gonna introduce you to Doctor Amari,” Valentine cuts in. “But if you wanna go together, just say so.”  
“I’ll head out with Piper,” I say quickly, gratefully. “We’ll meet you there.”   
As useful as Valentine would be, even more qualified than Piper in many cases, I’m still just a little uncomfortable with the fact he’s a synth. And despite all he’s done to help me, I can relate to Piper much more than I can relate to him.  
“Sounds good,” Valentine says. “You two stay out of trouble.”   
“We will.”


	11. Good To Be A Good, Good Neighbour

Piper and I decide to stay in Diamond City until the next day, needing the rest more than we want to admit. She spends the afternoon with her little sister, Nat, and hangs with me in the evening, buying necessities from various vendors. We both have power noodles for dinner, sitting side by side on stools and barely saying much to each other. We don’t need to. It’s a partnership, not a friendship. Once I’m done, I push my bowl away from me and glance around. It’s a terrifically hot night, and I’m glad not to be wearing my heavy metal armor for once. Anyone who’s out here is sweating like a pig. “Who is that guy?” I ask Piper after a second, gazing over my shoulder at an old man who I’ve often seen just sitting there between shops, rocking back and forth. He doesn’t normally do so at night, yet here he is.   
“Oh,” Piper says, following my eyes. “Sheffield. He’s… well, he used to be an alcoholic.”  
“Is he okay?”  
“Don’t know,” she replies, sounding sad. “He has a home around here somewhere, has a life. He just… always seems to sit there.”  
“Hmm. One sec.” I get up from my stool and walk over to the old man, looking down at him. He’s mumbling under his breath, and I crouch beside him to hear what he’s saying.  
“Need… Nuka…cola…”  
“What?” I say, leaning closer.  
The man looks up at me with eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, from strain. Not from alcohol abuse. I’ve heard recovering from addiction can make you an insomniac. It can make you many things. Those recovering will sometimes find something else to be obsessed with. “Nuka cola,” he whimpers. “So thirsty…”  
“You want a soda?” I ask, confused. “Is that it?”  
Piper, who’s come up behind me, crosses her arms over her chest, looking pained. “Come on. We can spare something, can’t we?”  
I look up at her, thinking. Sure, he’s recovering from an addiction, and drinking Nuka cola is better than going back to booze, but… still. Is it really going to help him to get addicted to something else? But he looks really terrible, really in need… maybe he deserves it.  
“Dugout Inn usually has some,” Sheffield mutters, rocking forwards, then back. “But I can’t go there… can’t be around alcohol… Doctors say I can’t drink that…”  
“Hey, you live around here, right buddy?” I say, trying to get his attention. “Why would you sit out here when you could be inside?”  
“Nuka cola…” he whimpers back.   
I sigh, and then reach into my pack and pull out my last bottle of Nuka cola. Looks like this guy needs it way more than me. “Here you go,” I say, conceding. The man grabs it with greedy hands, clutching it to his bony chest, and I straighten up. “Just get yourself outta here. Seriously.”  
“Oh, thank you – thank you!” Sheffield crows. He quickly climbs to his feet, a smile coming to his face, and limps off out of the marketplace. I shake my head, watching him go, and then turn back to Piper.   
“That was real sweet of you,” she says, beaming.   
“Yeah. Not sure how much it helped, though,” I reply gruffly. We return to the Power Noodle counter and sit back on our respective stools in silence.   
And then, cocking her head, Piper abruptly breaks it: “You’re always on good behaviour, aren’t you?”  
“I… honestly didn’t realize I had been,” I say in surprise, turning to her.  
Piper smiles. “So this is you not even trying, huh? Well, I appreciate it. Too few folks can be bothered. Course, from my experience, if you want to do real good, playing nice only gets you so far.” She sighs, gesturing around her. “I mean, look at Diamond City, a place I’ve been trying to warn of real danger. But every issue I publish, all I hear is: ‘Oh, Piper, why don’t you publish anything happy? Piper, why can’t you write something nice for a change?’ It’s enough to make me wanna hang up my hat some days.” She sighs.  
I shrug noncommittally, understanding what she means, but also understanding the appeal of hearing nice things in a world where everything else seems terrible. “Is Diamond City really in danger? It’s not like there’s Raiders pounding on the gate.”  
“Are you kidding me?” Piper exclaims. “There’s a very real chance that the city leadership has been infiltrated by an Institute synth. A synth under the control of an organization widely known to kidnap or murder anyone that stands up to them. I’d take Raiders any day of the week over that!” She tilts her head. “Course, making sure folks are actually listening… that’s a battle in itself…”  
“Sounds like it must be exhausting,” I say perceptively.  
“Heh, no kidding. But people, they deserve to know the truth,” she declares. “Sure, it can be scary, knowing what’s really out there. A night doesn’t go by that I’m not afraid some Institute drone’ll decide today is the day to pay ‘ol Piper and family a visit. But it’s worth it. Because I know the truth, that’s what protects us.”  
I wonder if that’s why Piper looks so tired this morning. When you know the truth, it can keep you up for hours on end.   
“Scared, huh?” I say, raising an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”  
Piper snorts a laugh. “I’m pushy, not crazy. Honestly, these days I’m more scared for my sister. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to her.”  
What she’d do is she’d fight like I’m fighting now for Shaun. Our priorities match, and so do our spirits. We’re not afraid to fight for what we want; me for my family, and she for the truth.   
“But I’m not the only one with something to lose,” she continues. “That’s why people deserve to know what’s out there, good or bad.”  
“Couldn’t agree more,” I approve. “How can you protect you and yours if you don’t know what you’re facing?”  
Piper nods enthusiastically. “Exactly! Most folks, though, they’d prefer a comforting lie. Not me. I’ve seen first-hand what the truth can do.” She shifts in her stool, turning more to face me. “My little sister and I grew up way out in the Commonwealth. Tiny little settlement. Our Dad, he was part of the local militia.” Her lips curl up at the corners into a reminiscent smile. “’Keeping the Raiders off our backs and the Mirelurks out of the latrines’, as he’d describe it. Well… one day, our Dad turns up dead.”   
I raise my eyebrows in shock. Piper looks away, frowning angrily. “His captain, asshole named Mayburn, claims Raiders must’ve gotten him on watch. Well, I didn’t buy it. I start making inquiries. Turns out, the captain, he’d sold out. Thought he wasn’t getting paid enough to babysit the town. He was gonna leave the gates open one night, let a group of Raiders sack the place, and take a cut of the profits. My Dad found out and was gonna turn Mayburn in, but Mayburn got to him first. And I wasn’t about to let that bastard get away with murder.”  
Her eyes flash with anger. “I tried talking to the mayor, but he wouldn’t listen. So I papered the entire town in posters: ‘Wanted for Gross Dereliction of Duty. Captain Mayburn’. The mayor sure wanted to talk after that. The town threw Mayburn out on his ass and were dug-in when a very surprised group of Raiders finally showed.”  
I want to hug her, I don’t know, comfort her somehow. “What happened after that?” I ask instead.  
Piper shrugs. “Well, we made do. Sis was still pretty young at the time and Mom was… out of the picture, so we got on by the kindness of others for a while. Eventually I saved us up enough to book us both passage with a caravan and then we moved on up to the big city. Called it home ever since.”  
Maybe Piper and I aren’t the same after all. I like to pride myself in being strong, both physically and emotionally, but to fight for other people’s lives when they don’t even want you to, after the death of someone you love… well, that’s tough. She saved the lives of all the people in her town simply by telling them what they didn’t want to hear. Even if she doesn’t make friends from what she does, she’s still a major hero in my book.   
“Sorry about your Dad,” I say gently.  
Piper is quite obviously saddened by the memory, but she just shrugs it off. “Thanks. It was hard after he was gone, but knowing that he died doing right, that’s always made it easier.”  
I nod slowly, sobered by the whole story. Damn, this world is messed up.  
“Hey,” Piper says suddenly. “I’m sorry if I’ve been rambling. I just get fired up sometimes. It’s just nice to talk to someone who - who actually seems to get it, you know.”  
I smile at her. “Likewise.”

\- - -

Goodneighbor is hidden Northeast of Diamond City, between high-rise buildings. It’s visibly smaller than Diamond City, with an artificial wall built from scraps of metal and concrete, topped with barbed wire. Crows sit on the barbed wire, cawing down at us as we approach the entrance, watching us with their beady little eyes. As we enter, I feel like nothing more than a seasoned traveller, passing though. I think it’s because it’s one of those towns, for all sorts of odd people: the people who don’t belong anywhere else.  
It’s rather rundown, the shop lights flickering and the houses dilapidated. There’s all sorts of rubbish on the floor, food wrappers and plastic bags, spent shell casings, discarded magazines and pieces of paper. It’s a neighbourhood which makes me instantly wary, my fingers tightening on the grip of my laser rifle. As I walk towards the alleyway leading towards the rest of the town, a man in a leather jacket with scarred cheeks intercepts me. He’s got a cigarette drooping from his lips, and his eyes are bloodshot from chems. I already know he’s going to cause trouble.   
“Hey, hold up there. You new to Goodneighbor? Can’t go walking round without insurance,” he tells me in a gruff no-nonsense voice.  
“Unless it’s ‘keep dumb assholes away from me’ insurance,” I say coolly, “I’m not interested.”  
“Hey, don’t be like that,” the man says. “I think you’re gonna like what I have on offer.” He’s bald, with a scarred face. He reminds me of Kellogg, which is not a good thing for him at all. “You hand over everything you have in those pockets, or accidents start happening to ya. Big, bloody accidents.”  
I glare at him. There’s no way I’m giving this dickhead anything.   
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time out,” comes a voice from the alleyway. All of us turn to see a ghoul dressed in old imperial military clothing walking over, his black eyes mutinous. “A guy walks into Goodneighbor for the first time, he’s welcome. You lay off that extortion crap.”  
“What do you care?” the man retorts. “He ain’t one of us.”  
“No love for your mayor, Finn?” The ghoul’s already husky voice gets even lower, more menacing. “I said, let him go.”  
“You’re soft, Hancock,” the man called Finn says. “You keep letting outsiders walk all over us. One day, you’ll realize that.”  
“Come on, man,” Hancock, the mayor of Goodneighbor says, striding until he’s right up in front of Finn. “It’s me we’re talkin’ about. Here, let me tell ya something.”  
Finn leans in, and the mayor unsheathes a knife lightning-quick from under his coat, burying it twice in the asshole’s stomach. Finn groans in pain and surprise, and then crumples to the floor at my feet, already bleeding out onto the stone. I hear Piper’s sharp intake of breath, matching my own. Hancock wipes the blade on his red coat and turns to me with a friendly smile. “You all right there, brother?”  
“You killed him,” I say simply, a little shocked.  
“You got a good pair of eyes on you. I think you’ll fit in here. Goodneighbor’s of the people, for the people, ya feel me?”  
I glance down at Finn’s body, wondering if he demanded belongings from everyone arriving in Goodneighbor before Hancock put a stop to him. Perhaps I would have ended up killing him if Hancock hadn’t interrupted. I suppose it’s a good thing he’s dead, after all. “Of the people, for the people?” I repeat slowly. “Oh, brother…”  
Hancock laughs, a low gravelly sound. “I can tell I’m gonna like you already. Consider this town your home away from home... so long as you remember who’s in charge.” He gives me a hard look, to make sure the message has sunken in, and then turns and walks away. I glance back at Piper; she shrugs at me, nonplussed.  
We head towards the alley without being obstructed this time, and come out into a small square with two benches facing each other. All the buildings are dull grey with smashed windows and chipped stones, all of them except the Memory Den. I can tell which one it is, because the name is flashing on a great big sign above ruby red doors, and the walls look cleaner than the rest of Goodneighbor. They built it out of a theatre, which was a pretty smart idea; people are always drawn to theatres, searching for ways to escape their own lives and enter someone else’s.  
Piper and I head inside without hesitation, knowing that Nick Valentine is probably already waiting for us within its depths. Inside, it’s just as warm and cosy as I’d imagined. We enter the main room, where there’re two rows of pods facing each other; one is occupied with a smiling woman, her eyes closed as she relives one of her memories. There are old worn paintings on the walls, empty vases, and chandeliers illuminating the space. The focal point of the room is the ruby couches, upon one of which a blonde woman is lying, voluptuous and as beautiful as a movie star. She calls out to us as soon as she sees us walking towards her, sitting up slightly. “You looking for Doctor Amari?” she asks in a low, sultry voice.  
“Yes,” Piper says – I can tell instantly from her tone that she doesn’t think much of this woman. She used the same tone with the mayor of Diamond City when I first met her.   
“She’s downstairs,” the woman replies with a slow, cat-like smile. Her eyes are fixated on me as I leave the room after Piper, and I have this odd tingling feeling between my shoulders because of it. I’m also quite flattered, I suppose.   
We descend the stairs together and enter the room in the basement of the building. Valentine’s already here, standing across from a hispanic doctor who looks to be in her fifties.   
“I take it this isn’t a social visit,” Dr. Amari says as she watches us come in.   
“Doctor, it’s time for you to reverse death itself,” I say dramatically.   
She frowns at me. “What?”  
Valentine sighs. “I wouldn’t have put it quite that way, but it’s true. We need a dead man’s memories. Guy named Kellogg.”  
The woman looks offended that he’d even suggest such a thing. “Are you two mad? Putting aside the fact that you’re asking me to defile a corpse, you do realize that the memory simulators require intact, living brains to function?”   
“Please,” I say. “Nick said you were the only one who could make this work.”  
“This brain had inside knowledge of the Institute, Amari,” Valentine adds. “The biggest scientific secret of the Commonwealth. You need this, and so do we.”  
The woman sighs, reluctant. “Fine, I’ll take a look. But no guarantees. Do you… have it with you?”  
“Could you say that like Dr. Frankenstein?” I ask with a grin. “’Igor, fetch me the brain!’”  
I can hear Piper struggling not to laugh behind me.   
“No!” Dr. Amari snaps. “I will not. Now, do you have it?”  
I pull the small plastic bag with the piece of brain in it out of my pocket and hand it to her. “Here’s what I could find,” I say.  
She examines it. “What’s this? This isn’t a brain. Wait… that’s the hippocampus! And this thing attached to it? A neural interface…”  
Valentine grimaces. “Those circuits look awfully familiar.”  
“I’m not surprised,” Dr Amari replies. “From what I’ve seen, all Institute technology has a similar architecture.”  
“Go on, doctor,” I prod.  
She looks up at me, gaining confidence. “Mr Valentine is an older generation synth. But Institute technology, being what it is… the brain implant could fit him.” She hesitates. “But that’s an incredible risk to take. We’re talking about wiring something to his brain.”  
“Don’t worry about me, Amari. I’m well past the warranty date anyway,” Valentine says, waving a hand.   
“I appreciate this, Nick,” I tell him sincerely.  
“You can thank me when you get your son back,” Valentine replies. “All right. Let’s do this.” He sits down on a stool beside one of the pods in the room, and both Piper and I avert our eyes as Dr Amari begins tinkering with the software in the back of his head. Somehow, we feel instantly that he needs privacy.   
“If I start cackling like an old mercenary, pull me out, okay?” Valentine jokes.   
Amari connects the neural interface and Valentine grimaces. “Let’s see here… I need you to keep on talking to me, Mr Valentine. Any slight change in your cognitive functions could be dire. Are you feeling any different?”  
“A lot of flashes and static,” Nick says, wincing. “Can’t make sense of any of it, though.”  
Making a short hissing sound with her teeth, Dr. Amari straightens up and turns to me. “That’s what I was afraid of. The mnemonic impressions are encoded. It appears the Institute has one last failsafe…”  
“Is Nick gonna be okay?” I ask hurriedly.  
“Yes, the connections appear to be stable. Hopefully, it’ll be as simple as unplugging the implant when we’re done. But that doesn’t get around the current problem. The memory encryption is too strong for a single mind, but… what if we used two?” Her eyes light up as she gets an idea. “We load both you and Mr Valentine into memory loungers. Run your cognitive functions on parallel. He’ll act as a host while your consciousness drives through whatever memories we can find.”  
It sounds like a pretty legitimate idea to me, but if it’s going to harm either Valentine or me, I’d like to know sooner rather than later. “Any idea what I’m gonna see in there, Doc?”  
“I have no clue,” she answers honestly.   
“All right,” I say after a moment, realizing I have no choice. “Let’s get started.”  
Anything for Shaun.  
“Just sit down in the memory lounger over there,” Dr Amari says. “And keep your fingers crossed.”  
I do as she says, climbing into the memory lounger she pointed out and taking a deep breath to calm myself. It’s a remarkably padded seat, much better than the cryogenic pod I spent 200 years in during my time in Vault 111.   
“Please, neither of you get brain dead in there,” Piper calls. “Be careful.”  
As the hatch closes over me, I can see her sitting on the couch in the corner of the room, watching me. She waves, and I wave back.   
“See you on the other side,” Valentine calls.  
“Initiating brainwave stream between the transplant and the host,” I hear Dr Amari say as she types away at her terminal. She’s talking to me. “Mnemonic activity coming from the transplant! It’s degenerated, but it’s there! We’re going to load you into the strongest memories we can find. They might not be stable. Just hold on.”  
I exhale slowly and clutch at the armrests, staring at the screen at my eyelevel. It flashes once, so blindingly bright that my whole vision turns white as well – everything fades, and I get that warm soft feeling you normally don’t recognise as you drift off to sleep. I’m weightless, bodiless. Time no longer exists, nor do the problems I have in reality. The whiteness continues for a long while, and I drift through emptiness without a care in the world. And then my vision seems to clear; I hear a voice coming from above me, behind me, all around me. “Can you hear me?”  
Dr Amari’s voice. I would answer, but I can’t seem to speak. I don’t have a body.   
“Ah, good. The simulation seems to be working, although the memories are quite fragmented. I’ll try to step you through the intact memories and find some clue of the Institute’s location.”  
Below me, a bridge of glowing light appears; I can move now, and I won’t go drifting off into darkness, into the unknown. As I begin to follow the path, I hear Amari say, “There. This should lead you to the first memory.”  
The shape of a room abruptly materializes around me and I see a young boy sitting on a bed, a woman in a chair next to him – his mother, perhaps? The child, although unscarred and with hair, is undeniably Kellogg. There’s something in the eyes and the smile. Even before I know what the memory is about, I can tell it won’t be useful to me. Not useful enough, anyway. I quickly turn and step out of the room again, onto another glowing bridge.   
“This doesn’t appear to be what we’re looking for…” Doctor Amari says as I follow the path. “There appears to be another intact memory close to you in temporal sequence. There! Try that one!”  
Out of the darkness, another room materializes. I’m standing in a kitchen, watching the backs of a man and woman preparing a meal. The man is a young Kellogg, I realize, and the woman… well, she must be someone he once loved.   
Sarah, my mind thinks automatically. And then, as I glance to the right and see the baby in the cot, I think, Mary.  
Kellogg’s wife and daughter. What happened to them? Where were they when he began working for the Institute, when he shot my wife and kidnapped my son?   
I don’t stick around in this room, either, desperate for something that will help me personally. And I’m also afraid. Afraid that I’ll start feeling sorry for this man.  
As I leave, Dr Amari says, “Let’s keep looking. I’ll connect you to the next intact memory.”  
This time, it’s a tunnel that materializes around me, not a room. I’m behind Kellogg himself; he’s carrying a gun, walking slowly and stealthily down the corridor towards a door at the end. I follow him – above us, I hear a sneering voice: “How did you think this was gonna end, Kellogg?” A chuckle. “You thought you could just fuck with us, and we wouldn’t fuck with you? Just so you know, they died like dogs. And you… weren’t there to help them.”  
I feel my gut heaving. I hate Kellogg, but I also don’t. I understand him. Once he had a wife and daughter, and they were slaughtered by the scum of the Commonwealth. It’s enough to turn any man mad and vengeful. But… even now, when my own family has been taken from me, I wouldn’t dare to destroy someone else’s. Kellogg’s own grief doesn’t relieve him of his guilt, and it never will.  
“I’ve found another memory for you try,” Dr Amari says after a moment, sounding strained. “I’ll connect you.”  
I quickly move out of the corridor onto another filamentous bridge, glad to be out of there. As I come up to another room, I see this memory is inside a bar. Kellogg, wearing upgraded armour, his hair already receding, sits at a table all alone. Drinking, drinking, drinking. I already know the patterns, so it’s nothing new. It’s nothing to do with Shaun. Shying away, I move out of the memory before something in me breaks for him.   
“Well,” Dr Amari says. “We seem to be getting closer. Try this next one.”  
I reappear in a very brightly-lit cellar. Bingo. A woman wearing white, sitting behind a desk and flanked by gen-1 synths, is interviewing Kellogg. He already looks like the man I killed; he’s got that sneer on his face, the deadness in those eyes. I think we really are getting close now. Surely this is just before he started working for the Institute.   
“Getting warmer,” comes Amari’s voice. “One of these has got to tell us something. We’re running out of brain, here.” She tuts. Leaving the synth-filled room behind, I step back into nothingness, following my glowing trail. A memory is already materializing in the distance. “Ah! There’s one that looks similar! Connecting now.”  
As I move towards the room, though, I already know something is wrong. The closer I get, the sicker I feel. Once I’ve stepped into the room, I know why.  
I’m back where it all started, in Vault 111. In front of me, just down the steps, are the two rows of cryogenic pods. And there’s the hazmat-suited woman, her partner Kellogg standing impatiently with his gun already drawn. I’m back at the beginning, and all of a sudden I’m suffocated with the extreme longing to see Nora again.   
I sprint, move as fast as possible, passing Kellogg rapidly and heading towards the last two pods. I look in the one in the left, and instantly feel cold. Through the small window, I see my own face staring back at me, a disorientated face which has no idea what’s going on. What’s going to happen. You idiot, I want to say. You bastard. Maybe if you’d screamed louder, tried harder, they would have noticed you. They’d have killed you instead of her.   
But is that what I want? Is it really? Would I prefer to be dead while Nora is in my place, searching the wastelands for our lost son and mourning over my loss? I wouldn’t want anyone to be in my place, and I know it.   
I turn right, moving as close as I can to the pod without touching it, and I see her through the glass. I see dark intelligent eyes, dark hair. Refined, pretty features. I see her as a little girl, my best friend. I see her in her wedding dress on the day we were married. I look at her, and I see two worlds at once: the one where I had her, where there seemed to be no chance of losing her, and the one where I have to let her go.   
The lady in the hazmat suit comes up beside me, pointing at Nora’s pod. “This is the one. Here.”  
I continue to gaze through the window at Nora’s face, wishing she could see me. Wishing she could hear my warning and change what happened. Wishing she wouldn’t have to die.   
But it’s going to happen.   
“Open it,” Kellogg mutters coldly. Behind him, my old self is already banging on the glass, calling for attention.   
The woman presses a button on the control panel, and I have to stumble backwards to avoid behind hit by the door. Nora is coughing in the fresh air, cradling Shaun close to her chest, and my heart breaks into a million pieces for her in that moment. Seeing her alive ruins me, but it also gives me life; I long to touch her face again, kiss her again, speak to her again.  
“Is it over?” she asks. “Are we okay?”  
“Almost,” Kellogg replies. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”  
The woman reaches towards Nora, holding her hands out for Shaun. “Come here. Come here, baby…”  
“No, no – I’ve got him!” Nora resists, her instincts telling her to draw back inside the chamber away from these two strangers.  
“Let the boy go,” Kellogg warns her, raising his pistol. “I’m only gonna tell you once.”  
I want to stare at Nora’s face forever. I want her to look at me again, love me again. But I don’t want to see her die again. I stumble backwards, unable to deal with the replay of my worst nightmare.   
“I’m not giving you Shaun!” Nora’s voice rings out clear and loud.   
I turn away just as I hear the deafening bang of the gun, as she goes silent and Shaun begins to wail. Nora’s dead again.  
“Goddammit,” Kellogg mutters under his breath. I stare at him, seeing actual guilt on his face. “Get the boy out of here.”  
Without waiting another split second, I gather my wits about me and move on as fast I can out of the memory. There’s nothing left to see, and there never will be.   
“I’m…” Amari’s voice is sympathetic. She doesn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry you had to go through that again,” she says. “I found another intact memory. Whenever you’re ready.”  
Something about seeing Nora again has steeled my jaw. Yes, I’m ready. This had better be the memory where I find Shaun.   
As I enter it, I find myself in Kellogg’s home in Diamond City, in the upper West Stands. He’s sitting on a chair beside the desk, cleaning his pistol, and below the desk before a spread of comics is a ten-year-old boy. I stare at him, gape at him.  
“Is that your son?” comes Amari’s surprised voice.  
I walk over to the boy, crouching down to look into his eyes even though he can’t look into mine. He’s got a slim, graceful nose – his mother’s nose. And his eyes are a deep hazel-brown, the exact same shade as mine. His mouth has the slight curve my does, his cheekbones high like Nora’s. And the expression on his face… the same deeply concentrated expression I saw on my wife when she was studying to get her law diploma. Like nothing in the world can break him or distract him.  
This boy is Shaun.   
“This appears to be a very recent memory,” Amari says tentatively. “So good news, I think.”  
I continue to stare at my son’s face, in awe of the boy I never got to watch grow up. I never got to take this kid to his first day of school, help him with his homework, read to him at night, take him to all his favourite places. It’s a sad, sad thing. But… at least I have him. Maybe.   
I’m distracted by the sound of the door opening. Kellogg aims his gun immediately at the intruder, but lowers it once he realizes who his visitor is. It’s a man with a crew cut, dressed in a black leather suit and sunglasses. I can tell instantly that he’s from the Institute. “Kellogg,” this strange man says by way of greeting.  
“It’s okay,” Kellogg mutters, placing the pistol on the desk beside him. “One of these days you’re gonna get your head blown off by just barging in here.”  
“Minimizing my exposure to citizens is a priority…” the man begins.  
Kellogg straightens suddenly. “Forget I said anything. So what’s the big crisis this time?”  
The man walks over to the desk, watched curiously the whole time by Shaun, who has lost all interest in his comics. “New orders for you,” the man says. “One of our scientists has left the Institute.”  
Kellogg’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Left? As in…?”  
“Gone rogue,” the man confirms. “Name’s Dr Brian Virgil. We know he’s hiding somewhere in the Glowing Sea.” He pulls a folder out from under his arm. “Here’s his file.”  
“Well, some heads are gonna roll for this.” Kellogg looks though some of the sheets. “Capture and return or just elimination?”  
“Elimination,” the man says without pause. “He was working on a highly classified program.”  
Kellogg, who’s read as much in the file, agrees: “No kidding. One of the top Bioscience boys? Damn.” He places the file carefully down on the desk, and then gazes past it at Shaun. “So… I guess you’re taking the kid back with you.”  
“Affirmative,” the man says. “Your only mission is to locate and eliminate Virgil.”  
Shaun, bless the little guy, speaks up: “Are you gonna take me home to my father?”  
So he knows I’m alive – he knows of my existence, and perhaps of his mother’s, too.   
“Yes,” the man says hesitantly. “Stand next to me and hold still.”  
“Okay,” Shaun replies, wonderfully innocent. He stands and walks over to stand beside the stranger. I watch as the man grabs his arm and straightens him. “X6-88, ready to relay with Shaun.”  
Shaun smiles. “Bye, Mr Kellogg. I hope I see you again.”  
Before Kellogg can answer, there’s a flash of white light and a crackling sound, and Shaun and X6-88 are gone. Kellogg stands there, all of a sudden completely alone in his ramshackle home, staring at the spot where Shaun was last standing. “Bye,” he says softly.   
Very slowly, he fades away, and I find now I’m alone in this manifestation of one of his memories. My head is brimming with so much new information; I hardly know what to do with it.  
“Teleportation!” Amari says. “Now it makes sense. We’ve never found an entrance to the Institute because there is no entrance!” She catches herself. “Let me pull you out of there.”  
The television blinks on by itself, and I’m drawn towards the interference. “Whenever you’re ready,” Dr Amari tells me.  
I place my hands against the screen of the television, and whiteness overtakes my vision; I’m blinded once again, though while the first time it was like leaving my body and becoming free, this time I feel like I’m being chained down. And as I return to my body, I notice what a toll this has taken on it; I feel every ache and pain bouncing around within my skull. Slowly, as I blink, I find my eyesight returning, and my hearing too. While I was unconscious, someone switched on the radio; Uranium Rock is playing in the background, eerie to my delicate mind.   
The screen of the memory lounger slides out of the way, and I stumble to get out and away from it, gasping for breath.   
Amari holds her hands out in case I fall. “Slow movements, okay? I don’t know what kinds of side effects the procedure might have had. No one’s ever… done this before. How do you feel?”  
I press my fingers to my temples, feeling a whole lot worse than I’ve ever felt in my life, I’m sure. “Next time I have to watch someone’s life story, I want popcorn,” I mutter.  
Amari smiles. “Well, if you’re cognizant enough to joke, you must be all right. Are you ready to talk about what happened in there?”   
“There’s more than one person who knows about the institute,” I say, remembering. “Virgil, that scientist who escaped…”  
Amari, crossing her arms, says, “I didn’t know institute scientists could defect. This changes everything – he could answer all sorts of questions. Where did the memory say he was? The Glowing Sea? That can’t be right. No one would risk going there, not even to hide.”  
“That’s why he’s there,” I counter. “To make the Institute think twice about following him.” I might not know much – if anything – about this place she’s talking about, but if it’s as dangerous as her reaction is telling me, it all makes perfect sense.   
“That’s it! He’s using the radiation in the Glowing Sea like a shield… or a cloak. A way to throw them off and be at an advantage!” She looks at me seriously. “If Virgil’s found a way to survive there, you’ll have to do the same, if you’re going to follow him.”  
I grin. “Oh, I’m going in naked. Fingers crossed I get super powers!”  
She rolls her eyes at me. “I know you’re joking, but as your doctor I feel obligated to remind you that unprotected radiation exposure will only kill you. Dead. D-E-A-D. So be sure to find a way to get through there with your life intact. Good luck.” She begins turning away, but thinks better of it. “By the way, I unplugged Mr Valentine first. Removed the implant while you were waking up. He’s waiting for you upstairs.”  
She leaves the room, and I press a hand to my forehead and groan.   
“Headache?” Piper asks from the couch.   
I glance at her in surprise, having not noticed her still sitting there. She’s watching me half with humour and half with concern. “Yeah,” I say, walking over. “A big one.”  
“The whole ordeal took about an hour,” she clarifies, standing up. “I only heard half of what you were doing in there.”  
“Let’s just say… I saw things that I really didn’t want to,” I mutter. “Some things for a second time.”  
Piper’s face saddens sympathetically; she can tell I’m talking about the death of my wife. “I’m sorry,” she says. “But Shaun-”  
“The ten-year-old kid was him,” I say. “And the Institute have him. But there’s a way we can get to him; I’m sure of it.”  
Piper arches an eyebrow. “Yeah, that’s if we can survive the Glowing Sea.”  
I frown, thinking hard. “It’s where the bomb hit, isn’t it?” I say. “That’s why it’s so dangerous?”  
“You got it.” Piper shudders. “It’s home to the foulest beasts in the Commonwealth. Most who venture in there never return alive.”  
“Great,” I mutter.   
“You know, you are some kinda dedicated,” Piper says to me sincerely. “I wouldn’t share a beer with Kellogg, let alone a brain.”  
I shrug. “It had to be done. And besides, I… saw enough of his life to start feeling a little sorry for him. I mean, he was an asshole, but he had his reasons.”  
Piper smirks. “Don’t we all?”

\- - -

Nick’s waiting patiently upstairs on a couch, tapping away with his metallic fingers on the arm of the chair. As we approach, I call, “Hey, Valentine!”  
I was expecting a simple ‘hey!’ in return, but instead I get something which sends chills down my spine: “I hope you got what you were looking for inside my head.” A chuckle. “I was right. I should’ve killed you when you were on ice.”   
I stare at Valentine, wondering at the voice I just heard come out of his mouth. “What did you say?” I breathe.  
Valentine frowns at me. “What? What are you talking about?”  
I exchange a glance with Piper; she heard it too. We both remain silent for a few seconds, and then I say, “You sounded like Kellogg just then.”  
“Did I?” Valentine looks exhausted, which I didn’t think was possible for a robot. “Dr Amari said there might still be some mnemonic impressions left over...”  
“Well…” I hesitate. “Get back home and get better, Nick. You’ve helped me the hell of a lot – I have no idea how I’ll even repay you.”  
“You saved my life,” Valentine says. “That trumps all.”


	12. Atom Cat Detour

Piper and I say our goodbyes to Nick, and then part ways with him. While he returns to Diamond City, we’re staying in Goodneighbor to prepare for this trip into the Glowing Sea; as much as I tried to convince Piper not to go with me, she still refused to listen. So here we are, preparing for something we might never come back from.  
While I’d like nothing more than to go right now, today, I know there’s a lot of preparation involved. For example, we’ll need suitable armour in order to venture into a radioactive wasteland. We’ll need improved firepower to protect us, and plenty of medication in case we get sick or injured. And then we’ll also have to consider how long the journey will take, and where in the Glowing Sea Virgil might be. We book into the local hotel – Hotel Rexford – for a night or two, having to share the only free room, and set about preparing ourselves for the journey. Piper buys a partly reliable map of the Commonwealth from Daisy, the convenience store ghoul, and we mark a great big X at the area the Glowing Sea begins. On my Pip-Boy, I do the same, placing a marker to ensure I know I’m going to the right place. We refill on ammunition at the weapons store, and I use a considerable sum of my caps to buy a new gun: a railway rifle. They’re considerably rare around the Commonwealth, able to shoot railway spikes at such a speed and accuracy that they can nail your opponent to a wall. It’s better than any of the guns I already have, with the exception of Kellogg’s pistol, which I keep with me just in case.   
Since I know it’ll be hard finding the correct armour for this job, I have a conversation with KL-E-O, the weapons’ merchant about it. She’s an automatron who flirts with me every time I speak to her – still, she knows what she’s talking about. After talking about various types of armour, KL-E-O suggests that I find a suit of power armour. It’ll provide expert protection from radiation and from monsters, which is rather efficient. “Where do I find one, though?” I ask her.  
She doesn’t have a specific answer – all I know after the conversation is that there are several suits of armour out there in the Commonwealth, most of which have been empty and unused for decades. I recall the one I used to fight that Deathclaw in Concord, but decide it’s not the type I want. I need something better, stronger, with extra protection from radiation. And since Piper and I are going together, we’d need two full suits of power armour, which is really just pushing fate a little too far.   
When I get back to the hotel, I find Piper sitting at our desk examining the map. She’s taken her press cap, red coat and boots off, wearing only her worn trousers and a long-sleeved shirt that looks like it’s seen better days. “Any luck?” she asks as I come in.   
I sit down on the bed, stretching my arms behind my head. “If we want to really make sure we return alive, we need to be wearing power armour,” I clarify. “I doubt we’ll survive otherwise. So… now we’re stuck with the issue of finding power armour.”  
Piper sighs, thinking hard, turning to gaze at the map again. “Raiders often have suits of power armour,” she suggests, tapping the paper in several locations. “They steal them, renovate them and mod them. That’s an option. And there are the old army bases and operating stations which sometimes still contain power armour… oh, and sometimes satellite stations, too…”  
I jump up and walk over to where she’s pointing, leaning over her shoulder and considering the locations. “I don’t want to have to fight Raiders on their turf if we can help it,” I say. “And if any of these places are too far away, we’re wasting precious time – how do we know they’ll actually have power armour?”  
“True,” Piper says, sighing again and looking up at me. “What about we just go on a hunt for crashed vertibirds?”  
“We can’t be sure they’ll contain any spare suits,” I mutter. “Okay, I’m just gonna go ask around again. There’s gotta be somewhere we can purchase power armour, right?”

It’s at the end of our second day in Goodneighbor that someone in the town finally offers up some useful information. A ghoul neighbourhood watchman tells me about this garage somewhere to the southeast of Massachusetts called the “Atom Cats” garage. A gang of youths run it, and they’re said to have a whole selection of modified power armours. The plan has a better chance of success than any of the places we’ve marked on our map. In fact, the garage isn’t even on the map Piper and I bought, so I tell the man to give us an approximate location, and we draw a circle around the southeast tip of the state.   
So there we are, setting off in the completely wrong direction just to get a couple of power armour parts. We leave on the third morning, booking out of Hotel Rexford and taking everything with us. Once we’ve got the power armours, we’ll be heading straight back past Goodneighbor and Diamond City to the Glowing Sea, not even stopping to rest. If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it fast.  
Approximately, the whole journey to get the armour and head back towards the Glowing Sea should take a week, which frustrates me almost to the point that I just want to forget about it and continue on without armour. But then again, if we want to get this Dr Virgil and find my son, we need to live. That’s obvious.   
I’ve marked the approximate location on my Pip-Boy, and it even gives us suggestions on how many miles to walk in a day; we set off with a good rhythm. Basically, all we have to do is keep following the main highway south from Goodneighbor, keeping beneath the motorway. Seemed easy enough at first, but by the end of our first day travelling we’ve run into packs of Raiders, wild mongrels and feral ghouls. If we keep going at this rate, we’ll have run out of all our meds and ammo before we reach the Glowing Sea. Piper and I camp beneath the motorway between the shells of two cars, and establish times for each of us to take watch at night.  
It goes on like that for two days and three nights.   
We travel by day, avoiding getting into fights, and sleep in small hidden spots at night, forever wary. By the time we reach the approximate location of the Atom Cats garage, both Piper and I have gotten used to the routine. We’ve more or less learned each other’s patterns and weaknesses. For example, I know that Piper’s a good shot but has poor awareness of her surroundings; without my cover, she’d surely get snuck up on. And Piper knows that while I have an expansive knowledge of weapons and how to kill human beings, I know literally nothing about Commonwealth beasts. We balance each other out, making a good pair, often acting simultaneously when it comes to facing enemies. Piper knows the Commonwealth better than I do, so I always make sure to count on her for advice and information, while she views me as the heavy gunman. In any fight, I’m the one who shoots first and takes the lead.   
It’s a little odd being this far away from where I began. We’re literally on the opposite side of the state, and I’m so deep into the Commonwealth that it’s sort of become a part of me. I enjoy watching the sun rise and set over the wasteland, simply because it’s just as beautiful as I remember back before the war. I’m used to the rads in all the water and the food, the monsters which hide in the shadows, and the assorted people we come across. Several times during our journey, we’ve had Brotherhood vertibirds fly overhead; we’ve witnessed them laying fire on a Raider settlement and a Super Mutant hideout. They’re just as common in the Commonwealth now as any other organization.   
“So,” I say, as we finally stop at the location I marked on my Pip-Boy. It’s a temperate day, the sun beating down hard on us, but I can see a storm approaching in the distance. “If that guy was correct, the Atom Cats Garage should be just over there.” I point off to the left, where a piece of land juts out into the water. “If it’s not…”  
“If it’s not, we’re doomed,” Piper declares dramatically.  
I look at her with a grin. Although we did our best to wash ourselves this morning, we did have to keep in mind that the water was concentrated with rads; her face is still caked with the dust and grime from our journey, and so is mine. My beard has also grown back into thick stubble, and I look just as wild as I did when I first arrived in Diamond City. “So?” I say to her. “You ready?”  
We trek out towards where the Atom Cats Garage should be, tired but hopeful. As we come towards the end of the jut of land, I can see an old Red Rocket fuel station, and there are shapes moving within its grounds. Piper and I approach cautiously, rounding the gate and several husks of upturned cars – sure enough, we see our first suit of power armour straight off the bat. One of the people moving about the area is wearing what I believe is T-60 power armour, shining and metallic in the sunlight; interestingly, it’s got a paint job involving flares on the shoulders. When we walk up to him, all he says is, “You got caps? Talk to Zeke.”  
Then he walks away.   
I exchange a glance with Piper. “Well,” she says after a moment. “This place seems secure. Perhaps we could rest up.”  
I leave my pack with Piper under the shade of the station, and head off in search of this Zeke guy. I can hear the water rushing into the land in the distance, and a radio blares within the station. If I weren’t on a tight time schedule, I might even want to stay here for a little while.  
I finally find the source of the music inside a big metal shed. There’s a bar here, one guy manning it with a woman leaning against the counter behind him, and a man sitting on a stool with his back to us. Both guys are wearing black jackets with an Atom Cats logo on them that I’ve never seen before. The man on the stool, without turning around, says, “Hey, Nosebleed! Who do you think you are? This is Atom Cat territory.”  
“I don’t mean any trouble,” I say automatically.  
The man swivels on his stool, lowing his sunglasses slightly to look me up and down. “We can’t be seen with some nerd from Nowheresville. We got a reputation to uphold.”  
I stare at the guy. He sounds like he’s just graduated from elementary school.   
“Oh, I know what this is,” the guy says suddenly. “You wanna join up with the Cats, don’t ya? I guess you don’t look like a total wet rag…”  
“And you don’t look like you’ve ever used one,” I quip.  
The man chuckles to himself. “Oh, you got me Jack, you got me.” He finally turns to look at me fully, taking off the sunglasses. He’s got surprisingly honest eyes. “All right, you’re one step closer to Coolsville. Now – let’s put your skills to the test. My girl Rowdy should have something for you to put your bread hooks on. She also trades in power armours and frames. Get yourself hooked up while you’re there, Jack.”  
Power armours and frames? Now that’s more like it. I head back outside to fetch Piper, and we go and find Rowdy together. She’s in the station’s garage, where the loudest music is playing. When we enter, she appears to be hard at work with something complicated and mechanical, drilling and banging away. Like Zeke, she’s wearing the Atom Cats jacket with a pair of jeans, her hair in a stylish black bob.   
“Hey,” I say, trying to catch her attention.   
Seeing us, she turns down the radio and greets us with a friendly smile. “Saw you over there gabbing with Zeke,” she says. “So what’s the story?”  
“Something about… bread hooks?” I venture.  
She grins. “Breadhooks, ya know?” When I’m still not understanding, she adds, “Hands! What a square…” She shakes her head. “But from the looks of it, I’d say boss man sees a little Atom Cat in ya. Wants old Rowdy to see if you have what it takes to shack up with us.”  
“This won’t be hard,” I mutter.  
“Oh, a cocky one, eh?” Rowdy says, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve been putting off hauling myself over the pond to Warwick, but now you get to do it.”  
Oh great, I think. Another quest.  
“This here’s something I’ve been fixing up, part of the pump system at Warwick. Thing was clogged up like Zeke after too many cans of cram. I want you to go to the pump shed there and install it.” She holds out a small mechanical instrument, about a foot long.   
I sigh, stepping back. “Look, I’d love to help you and become an Atom Cat or whatever, but… I’m really only here to buy power armour. I heard you guys were selling.”  
Rowdy pulls the thing back, frowning. “Really? Well, why didn’t you say so? The Atom Cats do have the most far out mods this side of the apocalypse. You wanna check out our stock?”

\- - -

An hour later, I am penniless but rigged with two whole suits of armour and several fusion cores. I feel sort of bad for not helping the Atom Cats out, but it’s not like replacing a pump isn’t something they’re capable of doing themselves. And Shaun is waiting for me somewhere; he’s my main priority.  
We use the power armour stations in the garage to sort out the armour – well, I sort out the armour and Piper watches, having no expertise in this field herself. I’ve worked on armour before; I had to repair my own armour back in the war, clean my own weapons, perform my own upgrades. This is nothing compared to that.   
Once I’m done with my power armour, I insert a fusion core into the port at the back and power it up. When I’ve stepped inside and it’s locked around me, I feel about ten feet tall and completely unbreakable. This armour has a special cable in the arm that connects to my Pip-Boy, so I can use the helmet like a screen and switch between tabs over my vision. Piper gazes up at me, an amused smile on her face. “Hope you’re aiming to use your robot powers for good,” she jokes.  
“Depends on what you mean by good,” I reply, winking.  
Piper, after a few false starts, manages to get into her own power armour. She’s never used one before, so I have to give her a quick tutorial on the buttons and how to use the interface. Once she’s gotten the hang of walking, running and shooting, I decide we’re about ready to go. I thank Rowdy, we grab our packs, and we get right out of there. Night is falling already, and we’ll be travelling in the darkness from now on.


End file.
